


Legacy

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda, F/M, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, season 7, season 7 coda series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:37:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 75,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: One story that weaves throughout all the eps in season 7.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! And I honestly did not think I was going to get this first one done before the second ep aired, but here it is. 
> 
> I must be crazy to do this again. But I couldn't stop myself. Hope you enjoy the ride! :)

“What is the matter with you?” 

Steve turned around to look at Danny, who was sitting on his hospital bed, that perpetual frown that seemed to have been on his face ever since Steve had woken up firmly in place. “Excuse me?”

“Why are you doing that?” Danny asked, nodding at the bed.

Steve looked down at the duffle bag, partly filled with his things that had gathered in the room over the weeks, the rest of them on the bed waiting to be added. “Because we’re leaving and I need my stuff?”

“No, I mean why you? You shouldn’t be packing.”

Again with the nagging. Steve took a deep breath, or as deep as he could before he had to wince at the pull on his stitches. “You want to do my packing for me?”

“No, see, I do not. Because I am sitting here waiting for the orderly to come help, as I was instructed.” Danny’s frown was epic now. “You, on the other hand, ignored the order not to lift anything and to wait for help and have probably pissed off my liver to no end.”

And there he went, calling it ‘his’ liver again. Steve was pretty sure that once it was in his body, attached to the rest of his internal organs, it was officially his. But not to Danny. No. “Trust me, if it’s your liver, it was born pissed off.” 

Danny muttered a few things under his breath. Steve was sure he caught the words ‘ingrate’ and ‘ass’ but he ignored it, because what was the point in another fight? He didn’t ask Danny for the liver, and it wasn’t like he could give it back.

“Commander, what are you doing?” Steve heard the nurse before he turned to see her, wincing as the stitches caught again. “You were supposed to wait for Ross to help.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said, sitting down carefully on the side of the bed. “I’m done anyway.” 

She raised an eyebrow before turning a smile on Danny. “You’d think I’d get used to these guys not listening, working in a military hospital.” 

“Trust me, he’d do the same thing in any hospital.”

“Well, at least one of you has some sense,” she said, picking up Danny’s bag and starting to put things in it. “Ross is tied up, and since the Commander,” she shot a look at Steve, “couldn’t wait, I’ll take care of your stuff so you guys can get out of here.” 

Danny laughed. “You just want to be rid of him,” he said, nodding at Steve.

Before she could reply, Dr. Cornett walked in. “Everybody in here ready to go home?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” Danny said.

Cornett looked at each of their charts before signing the bottom. “You’re all set,” he said. “Please do not forget the post op instructions.” He focused on Steve, who did his best to look attentive lest someone force him to stay another night. “We went over them in detail with diagrams and dire warnings for a reason—mainly because we don’t want to see either of you back here again for a while.”

“That makes two of us,” Steve said.

“That said, if there is any sign of a problem, we want to see you back here as fast as you can get here. Is that understood?” Cornett waited until they’d both nodded. “Good. Go home, take care of yourselves, and take it easy.”

Danny at least had the good sense to wait until Cornett walked out before he said, “Take it easy? It’s like he doesn’t even know you.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am going to take it easy, Danny. In fact, I’ll even submit to the wheelchair without a fight if it gets me away from this place.”

“Yeah, right, you’re just submitting to the wheelchair because you know I’d make it out of here before you if I took it and you didn’t, and you can’t stand that thought.”

“Please, I would beat you out of here in a wheelchair and we both know it.”

Danny raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? You want to bet on it?”

***

Steve tugged at the seatbelt as he turned on the car, trying to find an angle where it didn’t hurt too much. The stitches had been stinging a little after he’d packed, but after he’d fallen out of the wheelchair, they were a constant burn on his chest, like an itch he knew better than to scratch because it would hurt like hell. 

Still, it felt good to be in control. Driving the car, on a case, like everything was normal again. Everything except that need for medicine to keep him from ending up right back in the hospital again. 

He waited until they’d finished their call with Eric to take the meds, though. He’d thought it would make Danny happy to see him actually doing it, but of course, Danny being Danny, nothing made him happy about this. 

“What are you doing?” Danny asked

Because that wasn’t obvious? “I’m taking my meds.”

“I don’t know why you’re gonna bother doing that you’re not gonna follow any of the other post op instructions.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve said. “I’m not gonna pull over and take a nap right now.”

“Yeah, you know, ‘Five-0 Task Force.’ Force being the operative word. It means we have the man power to take care of certain situations if you gotta sit on the sidelines.”

He’d been sitting on the sidelines for weeks, and now Danny wanted to bench him again? Fat chance. “You wanna sit this one out? It’s okay, you know that, right? It’s not a problem.”

“No, no. See, I’m not the person who almost died, okay? That was you. And you heard what the doctor said. You are still in the evaluation period. That’s 2-3 months. You’re not supposed to even be driving a car. You’re not supposed to operate any machinery. “

Which…true. Still, Steve wasn’t going off like some invalid. “That’s a suggestion,” he said. “They make suggestions.” Suggestions that came with dire warnings, but so did a cup of McDonald’s coffee.

“Oh yeah? Let me tell you something. If your body rejects my liver because you’re not taking this seriously, I am gonna be very upset.”

There he went with the ‘my liver’ thing again. Clara had said Danny didn’t like to share; clearly she was right. “You’re gonna be upset if it takes it or not,” Steve said.

“Six hours,” Danny said. “Six hours I laid on an operating table while a team of doctors picked at my insides and took out a vital organ to give to you. Be grateful. Don’t be ungrateful.”

Of course, it came back to the gratitude he’d been harping on for weeks. Like Steve would rather be dead? “Here we go.”

“Here we go? What does that mean, here we go?”

“This is donor’s remorse.” That was a thing, right? Steve was sure he’d heard about it.

“Donor’s remorse?”

“This is classic donor’s remorse.”

“What are you talking about? I’m just saying show some respect. Have some genuine respect for my liver and follow the rules, that’s all.

 _My liver._ Steve was really sick of those words. That liver was in his body, his blood pumping through hit, keeping his body from shutting down completely. That made it his. “Let me tell you something, all right? Possession is nine-tenths of the law, okay, buddy? Now since your liver is in my body, you got no say in how I treat it. How about that?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I don’t think that goes for organ donations, okay? I don’t think it applies. But if it does, I think that we should change the law. In the meantime, I’d like my liver back, please!”

Steve slammed on the brakes, wincing as the seatbelt pressed harder against his stitches. 

Danny looked around. “What are you doing?”

“We’re switching places.” Steve said. He got out of the car and rounded the front. Danny got out of the car, but stayed put right beside his seat. “Let’s go,” Steve said.

“You’re gonna let me drive?”

Let was a very loose term, given all the nagging that had led to this. “No, I’m gonna shut you up is what I’m gonna do. Let’s go.”

“I can’t drive.”

Since when? “What?”

“I can’t drive,” Danny repeated

“You can’t drive?”

Danny shook his head. “Nope.”

“All these years,” Steve said, “you’re onto me about driving and now you say no?”

“Nope. Doctor said I can’t drive for about a week.”

Of course. Shove his adherence to the rules in Steve’s face. Nice. “Ah, okay, I guess we just backburner this case until then.”

“That’s obviously not an option.”

“Very good.” At least Danny had figured that much out. “What do you suggest we do?”

Danny thought for a moment. “Chin’s riding with Kono. Maybe he can drive us.”

Steve counted to ten. “Instead of either one of us perfectly capable adults driving the car, you want to call Chin and have Kono bring him over here to drive us around,” he said slowly. “That’s what would make you happy?”

Danny nodded. “That’s what would make me happy.”

Somehow Steve doubted anything would make Danny happy right now, but fine. If that was what it took to get the nagging about ‘my liver’ to stop, then so be it. 

***

Chasing a suspect was nothing new, but having to work quite so hard to keep up was. Steve rounded the corner, not losing sight of Shaw, but not exactly gaining any ground either. Of course they’d have to find the one suspect who was like Super Mario on speed. 

His stitches burned, sweat like mild acid as it ran through the incision, but he kept running, doing his best to keep up right until he took a jump and rolled, just the way he always had.

Pain seared through his incision, making it impossible to roll to his feet as he always had before. He looked down to see blood on the front of his shirt and knew he had to give up. He told the team he’d lost Shaw and rolled onto his side, curling around himself as if he could protect the wound. 

When he heard footsteps, he forced himself to get up. When he saw Danny’s face, he considered lying back down again. “I’m fine,” Steve said. 

Danny’s jaw looked tight enough to turn coal into diamonds. “Yeah, I’ve seen that fine,” Danny said, nodding at Steve’s chest. “Last time you looked anywhere near that ‘fine’ I ended up giving you half my liver. Which,” Danny said, pausing for a deep breath, “you clearly don’t care about.” 

“Yes, I do, Danny.” Steve took a breath, focusing on not making it too deep and making things worse. “What was I supposed to do, let the guy get away?” 

“You could’ve let our healthy team members chase him down.”

“There was no one else in the room. I had to keep him in sight.”

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You know what?” he said. “I’m not doing this. There are a couple of ambulances on their way. Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of them will have a shrink, too. Come on.”

He turned and walked off, leaving Steve to follow. 

***

Once Danny saw that Steve was actually letting the EMT take a look, he went off to check on the girl Shaw had held captive. Steve couldn’t help looking at the hotel as the EMT did his work. He should be in there finding Shaw before he could get away, not stuck here dealing with a few popped stitches. 

He’d just finished getting bandaged up when Danny showed up with a shirt. He’d barely answered Steve’s question about the girl before trying to get Steve to go to the hospital. 

“I’m fine,” Steve said.

“You’re fine? That’s good, I’m gonna put that on your tombstone. ‘He said he was fine. He was wrong.’ What’s the matter with you?”

The only thing Steve needed less than to have this conversation again was to have it in front of the EMT who’d already seen the mess that was Steve’s stomach and abdomen. “Would you do me a favor,” Steve asked the man, “and give us a second?”

The EMT nodded and walked off, leaving Steve to figure out what to say. Because he might, maybe, if he squinted, see Danny’s point. Clearly Steve wasn’t at the top of his game. He’d busted his stitches open and it hurt like hell. He hadn’t been this sore since the end of the first week of BUD/s. And somewhere inside a little voice that sounded far too much like Danny was screaming at him to go home and go to bed.

But he was a SEAL. That wasn’t what he did. Danny needed to understand that. Steve couldn’t stop being who he was just because Danny had given him a liver. It didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate it. Obviously he did, even though he hadn’t really let himself think about it too much. 

Somehow, though, it made it that much more important to get out here and do his job. To be normal. To show himself and everyone else that nothing had changed. 

_The best legacy a man can leave behind is the people whose lives he’s changed._

The old man’s words in the chapel came back to him. Steve liked to think he had helped change Danny’s life a little. Danny had sure enough changed his, especially recently. And Danny had almost watched him die. 

Okay, maybe he didn’t have to squint to see Danny’s point. Still.

“I love you,” Steve said, because he didn’t have any other words for this. Hadn’t really had those before Danny. 

“I love you, too,” Danny said, as matter of fact as ‘the sky is blue’ because it was obvious by now. Even before the gift of half his liver.

“Okay, then, give me a break, would you give me a break?” Steve said. Because Danny should love him enough to understand.

Danny nodded, that nod that said he was in no way agreeing with anything. Steve hated that nod. “All right,” Danny said. “I’ll step aside and watch while you get yourself killed. Is that what you want?” 

“I’m not trying to get myself killed.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s a relief, because it seems like for the last five or six years that’s been your goal.”

Seriously? “Again, I think you’re being a little over-dramatic.”

“Okay.” Danny patted him on the shoulder. “You know what, forget about it. Good luck.” 

He walked off, leaving Steve to call after him. “Wait, Danny.”

“Wait for what?”

Steve turned a little too far, the incision burning a little hotter as he took a breath. Danny’s constant reminders of his gift, of how it was his liver, went through Steve’s mind again, this time with the clarity of how he’d just nearly spilled Danny’s liver onto a rooftop about five seconds after getting out of the hospital.

Maybe he wasn’t the most grateful person when you looked at it like that.

He looked at Danny, who was another couple seconds of silence from walking away. “Thank you,” Steve said. 

It was worth the admission for the way the tension seemed to disappear out of Danny’s body. “You’re welcome.”

He could be okay with this gift. It would just take a little getting used to, much like having to take pills and not drink and the other instructions he’d received, at least within reason. He wasn’t going to give up who he was, and the job was part of that. 

Of course, Danny being Danny, he wasn’t exactly going to give up trying to make him.

“Where’s my vest,” Steve asked.

“What do you mean where’s your vest?” Danny replied. “Where are you going?”

And here we go again. “Where am I going? I’m going across the street for a cappuccino. What do you think?” 

“What about the talk we just had?”

“It was a very nice talk. I meant everything I said. I didn’t say I was gonna stand down.” Danny loved him. He should understand this—why was it so hard to understand?

“You’re an idiot. I’m done.” 

Apparently Danny’s insanity was catching, because the rest of his team started trying to talk Steve out of doing his job as well. Danny at least understood Steve well enough to tell them it was no use. “He’s determined to have my noble sacrifice be in vain.” Steve’s eye roll didn’t help. “Don’t give me that look,” Danny said. “That’s good. You know what? You need anybody else’s organs, talk to Chin. Because I’m done.”

Steve kept walking.

***

Of course Shaw tried to outrun them—Steve expected nothing less. He managed to keep up all the way up onto the roof. He knew what was about to happen, was already mentally calculating the jump to follow. 

“Steve, don’t do it!”

Something in Danny’s voice made Steve skid to a stop. He watched as Shaw flew through the air and caught the ledge on the other side, saw the struggle a second before he lost the battle and fell. Steve couldn’t look away, everything almost slow motion as Shaw dropped through the air before he finally landed on the concrete in a broken heap.

He’d caught a glimpse of Shaw’s face, knew the feeling he saw there, that last ‘this is it’ thought before you stop breathing, everything goes dark, and that’s it. 

Except for Steve it hadn’t been. 

Of course, it was hard to convince his nightmares of that, but they’d fade in time. They had to, or he didn’t know how many more times he’d be able to watch someone die like that and not feel like his heart was going to stop. 

He looked at Danny, who was smiling despite everything. Then again, his call for Steve not to jump was what had stopped him from likely joining Shaw in the bloody pile below, so maybe he had a little reason to be smug.

Not that Steve would admit it.

The image of Shaw falling replayed itself over and over as they went back down in the elevator, occasionally mixing in with sounds fading in and out in a plane as Steve struggled to stay conscious. He shook it off as they reached the exit. He turned to see his team right behind him, satisfied they’d done their job, their sense of purpose as sure as ever.

He looked at Danny, who didn’t want him to stop being Steve. Who didn’t care that it was his liver inside Steve so much as he did that Steve keep on breathing, since that’s why he gave it in the first place. 

Who hadn’t nagged once on the way down that Steve had gone after the guy, only because Steve had pulled up when it counted. 

Maybe he could do this. 

Kono’s suggestion of beers sounded fantastic. Too bad he couldn’t have them. He liked the idea of wings with his family, too, but he was sore. And exhausted. And his incision hurt like hell. 

“Tell you what,” Steve said. “You guys have at it. I’m gonna head home.” Danny looked surprised, but approving. “I’ve broken pretty much every post op rule there is to break. I think I’m gonna go rest up a little bit, you know? Might even take a couple days off.” 

Danny definitely approved—he was even smiling. Steve tapped him on the shoulder and headed for the car, the memory of that smile working to keep the darker images at bay, at least for now. 

***


	2. Chapter 2

Danny watched as Steve drove silently back towards town, his jaw in that same tightly clenched state it had been in since he’d found the chess piece in his house. Bad enough that the Governor was breathing down their necks about catching the killer, adding to the stress of trying to catch him in the first place, but no, the guy had to go and invade Steve’s house. 

Worthy adversary indeed. If the killer was smart, he’d left the island, because he’d poked the giant bear that was Steve McGarrett, and a lot of people didn’t survive that. 

Not that it was an excuse for using a woman’s dead daughter against her.

“So,” Danny said, “using her daughter against her…that was smooth.” 

Steve kept his eyes on the road, his jaw still tight. “This killer is using every tool he has. I have to do the same.”

“Still, seems a bit harsh.” 

“On a scale of one to terrorizing an entire island by killing a bunch of people?” Steve asked, sparing Danny a glance.

“Fair point.” The lines around Steve’s mouth were more pronounced, to say nothing of the one on his forehead, sure signs that he wasn’t sleeping enough. Danny had learned those signs well over the past six years. And where before that might’ve been just annoying, but not worrying, not when the person was Steve who could take out six guys with his bare hands on no sleep for two days, now it was different. 

Steve needed a certain amount of sleep to heal. If he wasn’t getting it, there was a greater chance of rejecting Danny’s liver. Of infection, of getting sick—there was a long list of things that could happen if Steve didn’t get enough rest, and none of them were good.

Not that Steve would listen, even if Danny tried to tell him. And he’d tried. It just hadn’t done any good. 

So he’d just have to look for more opportunities to make his point in other ways. He hadn’t given up half his liver and gone through all this just to lose Steve. That outcome was not an option.

***

Danny made sure Langford was safe in the back of a cruiser and on his way to be booked and stuck in the rendition room to cool his heels a little before tracking down Steve, who was removing his gear at the open trunk of the Camaro. 

“Langford secure?” 

“Yeah, he’ll be waiting on us when we get there.” Danny nodded at Steve’s chest. “How bad did you hurt yourself this time?”

Steve frowned. “What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t bust something open again during that fight.”

“I’m fine, Danny.” Steve pulled off his tac vest, and for all that he did it without wincing, Danny still wasn’t buying that the black t-shirt wasn’t hiding blood from a gaping hole in Steve’s chest. 

“You haven’t been fine since birth,” Danny said. 

Steve sighed, lips thinning for a moment before he said, “I am not injured. I’m perfectly intact, okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay, because he could be bleeding and he wouldn’t tell Danny just to be an ass. Danny reached up and grabbed the collar of Steve’s t-shirt and yanked it down, pulling Steve along with it, until Danny could see enough of the incision to see that it wasn’t open. Angry and red, still, but not bleeding. Not even weeping a little. 

He let go and Steve straightened, nowhere near as annoyed as Danny might have expected. “Happy now?” Steve asked mildly.

Not entirely, but he’d take a situation where there was no blood any day. “I’d be happier if you stopped putting my liver in danger.”

“Danny, I swear to God—“

“Save it for later,” Danny said, taking off his vest and throwing it in the trunk. “We have a spy to interrogate.”

***

“’Call the director of the CIA,’” Danny repeated as they walked up to the bullpen. “Like the CIA is a trustworthy source?”

“Well,” Steve said, “the director should be fairly trustworthy.”

Danny gave him a look. “Really?”

Steve shrugged. “Relatively speaking.”

Danny studied him for a second. “Ah, see, now I know what’s going on.”

“What?”

“You. You’re actually happy about this case.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not happy a girl is dead.”

“No, not about that, but see now you’re all mixed up with MI6 and you get to live out your whole James Bond fantasy.” 

“You don’t know what you're talking about,” Steve said. 

“Yes, I do.” Not that it mattered if Steve was happy about the case—Danny was happy to see him happy about anything given the past week. “Hey, maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll give you one of his gadgets. Like an exploding watch.”

Steve sighed as they reached his office. “Are you done?” he asked. “Can I go call the director now?”

“Sure. Just don’t let him talk you into going blindfolded into a black site somewhere.”

“Really?”

Danny gave him another look.

Steve shook his head. “Okay, fine, you might have a point. I promise, no black sites.”

“Good.” 

***

Danny stared in the mirror, fiddling with his tie, which was stiff and never liked to be knotted properly, no matter how many times he tried. He was halfway through his fifth attempt when he saw Steve approaching in the mirror. 

“If I’m the one who wants to be James Bond, why are you the one in the tux?” Steve asked, already decked out in his favorite black ninja wear. 

Danny envied him that outfit right now. “James Bond would not be having this much trouble getting dressed. This damn tie hates me.”

“I’d hate you, too, if you mangled me like that,” Steve stepped around in front of him, edging in between Danny and the mirror. “Here. Let me.”

Danny dropped his hands, letting Steve work with the tie. “Is Kono ready?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, despite having to do all kinds of extra stuff, she beat you.”

Danny huffed. “She didn’t have to deal with this tie. It has a mind of its own.”

Steve’s smile was a little crooked as he let go of the tie. “Sure it does,” he said, meeting Danny’s eyes. “That’s why I got it first try?”

“I blame the military and the fact that you probably had to learn a hundred and twelve knots to get out of soldier school.”

“The Naval Academy, Danny,” Steve said, voice tinged with amusement. “The Naval Academy. And it was only thirty-six knots.” 

He’d seen Steve tie a few knots over the years, his fingers flying as the ropes bent into complicated shapes. “I shudder to think what you could do with this tie,” Danny said. 

Steve’s smile changed, softening a little, but still with that quirk in the corner of his mouth. “You’d be surprised.” 

There was something in his voice, and it took Danny a second to find his own. He cleared his throat, swallowing carefully before saying, “I guess we should get going.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, sounding a little hoarse. “Come on, James Bond, let’s go.”

***

“You know,” Danny said, eyeing Steve as he drove, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drive this slow.” 

Steve glanced at him with a frown. “This is how I always drive.” 

“No, you always drive at least twenty miles an hour over the speed limit. This is almost the speed limit.”

“I do not always drive twenty miles an hour over the speed limit.”

“At least,” Danny repeated. “At least twenty. Someone might think you weren’t in a hurry to get to the base.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Langford said we don’t have to be on the plane for an hour. I figured I’d take my time and not have you bitching at me for speeding for once, but if you’d rather, I can hit the gas.”

He sped up, but still not as fast as usual. Danny didn’t blame him—the idea of getting on a plane didn’t exactly appeal to him, since the last time he’d gotten out of one he’d just crash landed it on the beach. But at least he hadn’t had a liver shredded by bullets when it happened. If it were up to Danny, they’d both be staying put. But it wasn’t up to Danny, so the best he could was go along and do what he could. 

“That’s better,” Danny said.

“Okay, what is with you?” Steve asked. 

“What?”

“Well, you didn’t even complain when I dangled a guy off the building, and now you’re complaining I’m not driving fast enough. Who are you and what did you do with my partner?”

“Clearly you’re a horrible influence.”

He didn’t know why those words made Steve smile, but it was the first real smile he’d seen from the guy since Langford had mentioned a flight, so he’d take it.

***

By the time they’d leveled off, Steve looked like he might be sick. The only noise was the sound of the engines for long enough that Danny thought he might go crazy from the silence. He closed his eyes and dozed a little, but he couldn’t manage to actually sleep thanks to his need to check on Steve every five seconds. 

Steve, who was staring ahead like he was being marched to a firing squad. 

Danny could only take so much of it before he finally reached out for Steve’s shoulder. “You all right?” 

Steve stared straight ahead. “Ah, I see,” Danny said to Langford, distraction his best option. “He’s very upset that you have your own jet and he doesn’t get to fly it.”

“Do me a favor, shut up for a minute, would you?” Steve said, still not looking back at Danny. “You realize,” he said to Langford, “you drop 5,000 feet we’re probably knock off 15 minutes of the flight time.”

“We could do the same by lightening the load. You look to be about 14 stone. Care to volunteer?”

 _Oh yeah, great, make him think about falling out of the plane. That’s not helpful._ “You’ve gotta excuse him,” Danny said to Langford, falling back on familiar territory guaranteed to get Steve going. “You see, he’s got control issues.”

“I don’t have control issues,” Steve said, right on cue. “I like to drive. Unlike you, who likes to be chauffeured everywhere.” 

“No, I don’t like to be chauffeured. I kinda don’t have a choice.” The banter wasn’t quite enough, so Danny fell back on the second best option—hanging a lantern on the problem. “Besides, why would you ever wanna fly an airplane again after what happened last time?”

“Not my fault.” 

“What happened?” Langford asked.

“What happened? Well, let’s just say that I am half the man I used to be in the liver department because of him.”

“Again, it’s not my fault. It wasn’t my fault.”

 _Oh, so it’s guilt on top of the fear then. Great._ “You know what else he is, besides a putz? He is a bullet magnet.”

“Hm. I wish you’d have mentioned that before I asked you two boys to come with.”

Chin’s call interrupted before Danny could say anything else. The talk turned to tactics after the call ended, but Danny kept a close eye on Steve, just in case.

***

“You know,” Danny said, as he pulled off his tac vest, “Until I met you, I never know so many people really did want to destroy the world. Or that they’d come so close to it.”

Steve smiled at him. “Yeah, but we manage to stop it every time, right?”

“You certainly seem to feel better now that you got to shoot something,” Danny said. “Even if it was just the computer.”

“I feel better now that we stopped all of Europe from becoming a giant radioactive wasteland,” Steve said. His smile faded, and he took a deep breath. “I should go check in.” 

He pulled his phone out and wandered off. His shoulders were stiff and tight as he put the phone up to his ear. Danny didn’t have to look far for the cause—he wasn’t exactly looking forward to another twenty hour flight just yet either. 

Maybe they could postpone it a bit, though. Take a minute to breathe before going through that again, do something fun and relax before they had to deal with flying. 

Steve was stuffing his phone in his pocket as Danny joined him. ”I just spoke to Chin,” Steve said. “Told him we’re on our way home. Let’s go. Come on.”

“You know,” Danny said, “I was thinking maybe we stop over in London.”

“London?”

“Yeah, there’s this little pub Rachel took me to on our first anniversary, they got the best fish and chips you ever had in your life.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Steve said. “You want a victory lap of all the happy memories of you and your ex-wife. That sounds disastrous.”

Victory lap? “What are you talking about? It’s fish and chips.”

“And a whole bunch of memories that are gonna make you sad. I don’t want that. I don’t like you when you’re sad.”

Yeah, he didn’t like it when Steve was sad either. And even less when he was scared. Which was the point. “That’s why you’re gonna make me happy. Just seeing you drive on the wrong side of the road will bring a smile to my face. Right?”

Steve’s attention was elsewhere though. Danny followed his gaze, watching as Langford got into a car, just smiling at them and taking off when Steve called his name. 

Because of course that’s what you do when you’ve outplayed your opponents. 

So much for fish and chips.

***

“You realize,” Danny said, as they boarded the plane, “that you were told never to set foot in the Middle East again, right?”

“We’re on official business, Danny. The CIA knows it.”

Right, because trusting the CIA has worked out so well for them in the past. Maybe Steve’s mom would bring Catherine along to rescue them since the CIA was so great. “Yeah, and when the rescue team comes that’s not going to stop that Captain from throwing you into Leavenworth for a hundred years.” 

“It probably wouldn’t be Leavenworth. They’d probably—“

“I don’t want to know.”

He could see one corner of Steve’s mouth lifted in enough of a smile to know that the banter was helping, at least a little. Maybe if he can keep it up, Steve won’t be so uptight about another twelve hour flight, this time into an area Steve had barely escaped with his life.

He wondered just how many places there were like that, places where Steve went into with memories of the time he almost hadn’t made it out.

Then again, when you went home every night to the exact spot your father’s brains were blown out, maybe you found a way not to be so sensitive about places. After all, places couldn’t kill you. And maybe if Danny focused on that fact he wouldn’t be so pissed at going to Pakistan. 

But if Langford led them to North Korea next, Danny was absolutely shooting him out of spite. 

***

Danny had just finished changing out of his suit when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find Steve standing there, back in his street clothes as well. “Are we leaving already?” Danny asked.

Steve shook his head. “We’re on a flight in the morning. First class, too,” he said, managing to look almost calm about it. “There might be something to that spy thing after all.”

“An actual night’s sleep in a bed,” Danny said. “I’m not sure I even know how to sleep in a bed anymore.” 

Steve’s smile was warm. “I suspect you can figure it out.” He jerked his head towards the hall. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. And before you start, I’ve already got the perfect place.” 

***

“I cannot wait,” Danny said, eating his fish and chips as he talked, “to tell Rachel I met her Queen. I mean, her mother is going to have a fit. I wish I could see it.”

“See, I knew you couldn’t get through this without mentioning Rachel.” 

Danny shrugged. “Mentioning, yeah, but it’s not like I’m sad about it. Speaking of which, how did you know which pub I was talking about?” 

“I know everything about you,” Steve said.

He’d said it before, but Danny was starting to worry that it might actually be true.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Steve sat in the car and watched as Danny shoved Sanchez into the back seat of a cruiser. It would do the guy good to cool his heels in the rendition room and wait for them to come interrogate him. People tended to be a little more cooperative after staring at dim cinderblock walls, sitting on top of a drain. 

He liked to call it time for reflection.

Danny got into the car. “He should be nice and ready for us by the time we get there,” he said, as Steve pulled out into traffic. 

“Good. We need him to lead us to Frontera.”

“Well, if he refuses to cooperate we can just let you chase him through another parking garage, completely ignoring all post op instructions.”

Steve sighed. “Danny, I do not ignore all post op instructions. Do I, or do I not, take my meds as directed?”

“You do,” Danny said, nodding, his face curled up in that frown that said he was not agreeing with anything. “But you also do things like eat and sleep—occasionally—that human beings without any other regard for their lives do to keep living, even though it is in complete opposition to every other thing they do every day.”

Steve tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, counting to five before he replied. “We needed Sanchez to find Frontera.”

“Yes, that is true,” Danny said, still with that frown. “And you will notice that I got him. Me. I got him, and without risking my half of our liver.”

At least he was calling it ‘our liver’ now. “Yes, but at the time I didn’t know he was going to stop a couple floors down.”

“No, you didn’t, because only sane people realize that you can’t shimmy down a drainpipe that many floors without risking death.”

“Oh, like sane people wouldn’t stand in front of a speeding car armed with a very small gun and refuse to move?” Steve snapped. “Because that’s caring about your life.”

Danny’s face smoothed out into a blank mask, his huff of breath before he turned his head pointedly to stare out the window everything Steve needed to know to know he’d made a wrong move. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten this time. “Look,” he said carefully, dividing his attention between the road and monitoring Danny’s reaction. “The job is all I’ve got, okay?” 

“Oh, really?” The frown was stronger than ever as Danny looked back at him. “The job is all you have.”

Steve pulled into the parking lot at HQ, sliding into their spot on automatic pilot. “Yes. The job has made sure it’s all I’ve got. I’ve accepted it. So I’m going to do that job to the best of my ability, okay?”

“You really think the job is all you’ve got?” Danny asked, shoving open the door. “Fine. Remind me next time to give an organ to someone who cares about something more than a job.”

He got out, slamming the door behind him as he stalked towards HQ.

***

Steve watched helplessly as the cartel’s guys drove away with Frontera. A real lead on fighting a never-ending, but always necessary, war, and they’d just let him go. 

Some days the job really was like one big kick in the ass. 

Danny looked even less happy about it than Steve as he walked back to the car. “See ya,” Danny said, as he went straight for the car. 

“All right,” Steve said automatically, before his brain caught up. Wait, what? “Wait, where are you going?” 

“Where am I going?” Danny paused, his hand on the door. “Well, the cartel’s got Frontera, probably gonna kill him if they haven’t already, we probably would’ve done the same. So, I say problem solved. I’m gonna go home, maybe take my kids to Zippy’s.”

“That’s good,” Steve said, because what else could you say to a five-year-old temper tantrum? “That’s good.” He looked at Halanu, noting that the Camaro didn’t start up. “Tell me satellite was able to follow him.”

“I can’t get the signal to realign,” Halanu said. “We lost him.”

Steve turned to the rest of the team. “All right. We’re gonna assume that Frontera’s dead, but this is not over, all right? I wanna know how that cartel hit team got on this island, and I do not want them getting off.”

They nodded, but as they started to move away, Steve caught Grover. “Hey,” Steve said, pulling out his keys and handing them to Grover. “Take my truck back to HQ? I’ll ride back with Danny.” 

Grover glanced at the keys, then back at the Camaro, which still wasn’t running. “You got it,” he said, taking the keys and heading off for the truck.

Steve took a deep breath before approaching the Camaro, stopping at the driver’s side door. He knocked on the window, waiting until Danny rolled it down to speak. “You done pouting?” Steve asked.

“Excuse me?” 

“I said are you done pouting? Because we need to go back to HQ and coordinate the search for the cartel.”

“Fine,” Danny said. “Go.”

“Come on, man,” Steve said. They didn’t have time for this right now. “We need you.” He nodded towards the truck, currently being driven away by Grover. “And I need a ride.”

Danny glanced over his shoulder before fixing his eyes back on Steve. “You can catch up with Grover. I’ve seen you run down cars. Today, in fact.”

“Danny, come on.” Because okay, fine, they were doing this right now. But they were at least doing it in the car on the way to where they needed to be. 

Danny rolled his eyes dramatically and heaved a long sigh before he opened the car door and got out. He went around the back and got in to the passenger seat as Steve got behind the wheel. 

Steve pulled out onto the road, sneaking glances at Danny for a minute before finally diving in. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Seriously, that frown was going to stick on his face sometime soon. “Nothing is wrong with me. I have a lovely life, with a job I am good at, good friends and a family that I love. What could possibly be wrong?”

Steve didn’t need to be a detective to get the point. That didn’t mean he had to give in to it. “Lucky you.”

“Yes, lucky me,” Danny said, sounding anything but lucky. “Unfortunately that job includes a partner who seems to think his life doesn’t matter, and that he has nothing to live for, despite other people going to great lengths to keep him alive.”

Steve pressed his lips together on a long breath. He looked out the window to the side, then back at the road ahead, but the answer to what Danny wanted to hear didn’t seem to be there. “Look,” Steve said finally, still watching the road ahead. “Mom…Dad…the job ruined them both. It’s dictated my life since before I was born. And it’s all I have now. It’s what I trained for. The mission is what matters.”

“But,” Steve said, “that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the things that come with the job.” He glanced out the side window again. “Just because the job is my life it doesn’t mean it’s all bad.”

Because it wasn’t. It had given him a home and family and friends, in its own way. And he’d made peace with that.

He hazarded a glance at Danny, who was watching the road. “So you like the perks?” Danny said. “Like the ability to kick in doors and shoot people with no consequences?”

The words were harsher than the tone, which was veering back into their normal back and forth mode. “Well, there are other perks,” Steve said, giving Danny a smile didn’t quite feel. He could see Danny visibly relaxing, minute little changes in the way he held himself that no one else would see, and the smile started to feel more real.

“Well, there was that time they comped our meal at Side Street,” Danny said.

“See?” Steve said, feeling the knots in his neck loosen just a little. “All kinds of perks.” 

***


	4. Chapter 4

Danny left the airport with his jacket over his arm, wondering how he’d managed to come to New Jersey in the fall and somehow it was 80 degrees. The least the coast could do was offer him some real fall weather. 

He spotted his sister’s car at the curb and hurried over, giving her a hug as she got out to open the trunk. She asked about the flight as he got in and buckled up, and she pulled out into traffic. 

“You couldn’t have gotten a better flight?” Bridget asked. “It’s rush hour. It’ll be midnight at this rate before we get to Mom and Dad’s.” 

“Not the way you drive,” Danny said, as she weaved her way through three cars in two lanes to get ahead. “I come 5,000 miles to get maimed in a car accident, Steve will never let me forget it.” 

Bridget just laughed. “If you didn’t drive like Grandma maybe we’d let you drive more often. Speaking of Steve, how’s the other half of your liver doing?”

“Living in constant fear for its continued existence, much like me.”

“And Steve?” She glanced at him in between lane changes. “How is he?” 

“Living with no fear of dying, as usual.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “But you have enough fear of that for the both of you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bridget shrugged. “Nothing. Just saying that maybe—“

Danny’s phone rang, Grover saving him from whatever observation he didn’t want to hear. “Forget that thought,” Danny said to Bridget, before he answered his phone. “Please don’t tell me Steve has managed to lose another vital organ in the time it took me to fly to Jersey.”

“No,” Grover said. “But I’m guessing that means you haven’t talked to him?”

Which meant Grover apparently hadn’t either. “Not since I got on the plane, and I didn’t have any messages when I landed. Why?”

“It’s nothing.” Sure it was. “It’s just that he was supposed to be here already, and he’s not picking up his phone. I’m sure he’s just stuck in traffic—there’s a big accident on the H1.”

“Sure, like Steve wouldn’t throw on the lights and go around it, or find a way to fly over it or something?”

“Even Steve can only do so much about traffic,” Grover said. “Look, let me go check with a couple other people, okay?”

Danny suddenly wished he was in Hawaii. “Let me know what you find out?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep you posted. But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Right,” Danny said. “Nothing.” 

“I’ll let you know.” 

Danny hung up, shoving his phone in his pocket and looking out the window. 

“What’s wrong?” Bridget asked.

“Probably nothing. Steve’s late getting to the office.” 

“You always say the traffic there sucks.”

Danny nodded, still looking out the window, banishing all thoughts of Steve lying somewhere rejecting the liver, or worse, from his head. 

Steve was fine. He had to be fine.

***

They’d finished dinner before Danny gave up trying to hide checking his phone every two minutes and went up to his room to call home. Grover answered on the third ring. “You hear from Steve yet?” Danny asked.

“Not exactly.”

That didn’t sound good. “Not exactly?”

“Chin and Kono were tracking his cell phone,” Grover said. 

When he didn’t finish, Danny prompted, “And?”

“It was in a package in the back of a mail truck.”

So Steve might be somewhere kidnapped or something and not have his meds. Or…well, Danny didn’t want to think about the or. “How did it get there?”

“He and Brown were going to talk to some doctor who lives out that way. Chin and Kono are on the way there now,” Grover said. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Danny. Steve can take care of himself.”

Yeah, except when bullets get in the way of that. “Yeah,” Danny said. “You’re right. Except for the times he can’t.”

“Don’t go there man.” Danny heard a voice in the background over the phone. “Look, I gotta go, but I’ll keep you posted,” Grover said. “Don’t worry.” 

He hung up, and Danny dropped the phone on his bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “’Don’t worry,’ he says,” Danny muttered. “Yeah, right.”

A knock on the door made Danny straighten up. “Yeah?” 

His mom opened the door, sliding inside and closing it behind her. “You coming back down?” she asked. “Or do you need some sleep?”

He shook his head. “It’s lunchtime back home. I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”

“Everything okay back there?” 

“Yeah.”

“Daniel, you can’t lie to me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on yet. Steve’s missing, and they’re looking for him.”

“He’s a tough guy, Danny. He—“

“Yeah, he’s real tough, except how he can’t even survive without meds he might not have with him or be able to take if he does.”

Clara sat down on the end of Danny’s bed. “Just because you lost Matt doesn’t mean you’ll lose Steve somehow too,” she said gently.

“It’s not that. Steve isn’t Matt.”

She studied him for a long moment. “I can see that.”

The comment made no sense, the tone and the look on her face not giving him any clue as to what she meant. “Matt did what he did to save his own neck,” Danny said. “Steve wouldn’t know self-preservation if it walked up and bitch slapped him. 

“Language, Daniel.” 

“Sorry. He just…there are only so many times I can save him.”

Clara nodded. “It’s difficult watching the people we love put themselves in danger.”

The words were careful and pointed somehow, and Danny frowned at her. “That’s our job.”

“I know. It was Eddie’s job, too. And I loved that about him.” Clara sighed. “But it still didn’t make it any easier to watch him go out the door every day.”

“I get that,” Danny said, and he did, had even when Rachel had complained about it, but it didn’t make a difference. “I just don’t see what it has to do with Steve.”

Her smile made no sense as she patted him on the knee. “You will,” she said. “Just give it time.”

Given her expression, he wasn’t sure he wanted to understand.

***

His phone had remained stubbornly silent throughout the evening with his family, not even a reply to the texts he’d sent to his entire team. It wasn’t until he’d gone up to get ready for bed that the phone finally rang, Chin’s name lighting up the screen in the dim room.

“What happened?” Danny asked. 

“He’s okay.”

Danny slumped down on the bed, relief coursing through him at the words. Still, okay wasn’t fine. “What happened?” 

“Turns out the doctor Steve and Alicia went to see was our serial killer. And she had plans for them.” 

“Plans?”

“She had a couple of killers lined up to off them. But Steve got them out.”

And yet he was still just ‘okay.’ “But what happened?”

Chin’s hesitation didn’t help. “They tried to drown both of them,” Chin said. “After Gray had stabbed them in the back.”

“Literally?”

“Yeah.”

“So six weeks after his liver transplant,” Danny said slowly, because this took some processing, “Steve was stabbed and almost drowned?”

“But he’s okay,” Chin reminded him. “The EMTs are checking him over now.” 

Danny nodded, still trying to process. “Let me guess, he refused to go to the hospital?”

“He said he didn’t need—“

“Put him on the phone.”

“Danny, I don’t think—“

“Chin, you put him on the phone, or I swear to God I will drive your Mustang over a cliff when I get home.”

He could almost hear Chin’s put-upon look, but after a second he said, “Hold on.”

A muffled conversation later, Steve said, “Hey, Danny.”

“Don’t you hey, Danny me. You get in that ambulance and you do not get out until they wheel you into Tripler.”

“Danny, I—“

“Steve,” Danny said, “you get in the ambulance. You go to Tripler. And you do not leave there until Cornett has personally told me—ME, not you—that it is okay to do so. Or I will call Rachel and tell her to pack up my children and send them on the next plane to Jersey and we’re staying here.” When there was no immediate response, Danny said, “Steve,” in a tone that he only used when Grace was being the worst kind of teenager.

“I’ll call when Cornett is there to talk to you,” Steve said, his voice odd. Softer than usual, and more subdued. 

Danny sniffed. “Good. And take your meds on the way.”

He thought he might have heard some kind of a laugh before Steve said, “Yes, sir.”

“No leaving the hospital,” Danny reminded him. 

“I know. I’ll call you after they look me over.” 

“You’d better.”

“Tell your mom I said hi.”

Danny shook his head. “I will. Go to the hospital.”

“I’m going, sheesh.”

Danny hung up, dropping the phone on the bed and flopping onto his bed next to it. Forget getting himself killed, that man was going to be the death of Danny over sheer worry. 

But he was okay this time. Or as okay as someone stabbed and almost drowned could be. 

Jesus. 

Somehow, some way, Danny was going to have to teach Steve McGarrett the value of his own life outside of just the job.

***


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was tough to write, because I tend to get very deep into the characters' heads to write and they weren't in the best frame of mind. I have a feeling my inspiration song, "Pieces" by Rob Thomas, which I listened to on repeat, is going to be used for more writing down the line, too. Check it out here: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qx8YHpNkrjk>

Danny checked the locks on each door, making sure the house was secure. He’d picked up Grace and Charlie after Kane had been booked, even more happy than usual to have his kids close after the day he’d had. 

He stopped in the doorway to Charlie’s room, amazed as always at how Charlie had managed to throw the sheet and bedspread off and twist his body into a position previously only seen in cats and Grace, who’d done the same thing until she was eleven.

Danny nudged Charlie back into a sleeping position that wouldn’t require chiropractic work later and pulled the bedding back up. It wouldn’t do any good—it would all be back on the floor by morning—but it was all he could do. 

It wasn’t like he could do anything about how Charlie had been so ill for so much of his life, for the transplant and the long months in the hospital. And he certainly couldn’t do anything about the fact that Charlie was probably still confused as to how Danny was now his father instead of Stan, but they were both still “Dad.” 

He seemed to be fine with it now, was a sweet, well-adjusted boy, but there was no way to know what it would do down the line. How it might affect him. How he might turn out. 

And there wasn’t a damn thing Danny could do about it. 

He smoothed back Charlie’s hair, listening to him breathe before placing a kiss on his forehead and moving on. 

He stopped in Grace’s doorway, watching. At least she now slept like a normal human being and not a cat, though he still hadn’t figured out how she managed to tuck her arm under her body like that. How she didn’t wake up sore with an aching shoulder every morning. 

Not that that would even register on the scale of the things she’d been through. Kidnapped and locked in a storage room, watching her father get shot in front of her scout troop, being yanked back and forth between Hawaii and New Jersey and now Las Vegas, and being fully aware of what was going on when the truth came out about Charlie, watching him go through his illness, and having to share her father after having him to herself all her life.

She rolled with it, always had. Lately, though…she’d started acting like a teenager. More secretive and sullen, too cool for her own family some of the time. He remembered those years, remembered how he’d been, how his sisters had acted, and he looked for any differences, anything that might be out of the norm, ever-vigilant for signs of something more than normal teenage angst. 

_“There’s not a day I don’t think about it. Where I went wrong. I shoulda seen the signs…I failed my son.”_

Danny stared at Grace, so peaceful in sleep. He couldn’t believe he’d ever be in that situation. Not with her and not with Charlie. But neither had Kane. Neither had any parent who’d found themselves with the media camped on their lawn not wanting to answer the question of “How did you not know?” 

For all that he’d told Kane that he knew he wasn’t responsible for Charlie and Grace’s actions, Danny couldn’t say he wouldn’t end up just like him if he’d gone through the same thing. It was never that black and white. If something happened to your kid, whether it was their fault or not didn’t change the fact that something happened to your kid. There was no way, thank God, to figure out how that felt, and he hoped he never did. 

After all, look how he’d reacted to losing Matt. Look how he’d almost reacted when he was sure he was about to lose Steve. 

He hoped he never had to find out how different he was from Kyle Kane.

***

Steve pulled up to the house, stopping on the side of the street. The lights were out, the house quiet, but he knew Danny. He wasn’t asleep. 

The kids probably were though. Steve picked up his phone and texted Danny. _You up?_

 _Yeah_ came back quickly. 

Steve got out of the car, making his way across the yard to the door. _Come outside_ he sent back. 

He’d just sat down on the porch when Danny came out, closing the door behind him softly. “Hey,” Steve said, watching as Danny sat down beside him. He looked tired—not that that was a surprise, given everything. He’d heard Danny’s side of the conversation with Kane over the comms. 

“Hey,” Danny said. 

Steve pulled one of the cans off the ring in his hand and held it out to Danny, who frowned at it before his face cleared. “Club soda?” Danny asked.

“One hundred percent Cornett approved for livers,” Steve said. “It was either that or Hawaiian Springs, and at least this we can almost pretend is beer.” 

“Maybe if we squint,” Danny said, but he opened the can and took a long drink. 

“Grace and Charlie okay?” Steve asked, studying Danny carefully.

Danny nodded, staring out at the street. “Sound asleep like it was any other day.”

As they should be. It hadn’t been any different for them. Danny, though…. “And how are you doing?” 

Danny’s huff sounded almost like laughter, but there was no amusement in his half smile. “Life is ridiculous,” Danny said slowly. “Kane was probably a good father. He probably did things right—he clearly loved his kid. And now what?” 

He looked at Steve. “What’s his legacy? He’s the murdering father of a mass murderer. This is what the gun culture does.” 

“It’s not just the guns,” Steve said. He heard Danny, he knows Danny knows that, but knows he needs to hear it, too. “There are a million things you can point a finger at. Mental illness, the internet, a culture of no accountability, the weather sucks, someone cut you off in traffic, someone looked at you wrong. But at the end of the day…shit happens. It’s why we have jobs and it’s why we do what we do. We want to minimize the damage, and sometimes we do. But sometimes…we don’t.” 

Danny took a long drink, looking out at the street again before turning back to Steve. “Strong words from someone who thinks the job is all he has.”

“I know the job isn’t all I have,” Steve said quietly. 

“Really? Because that’s not what you said.”

Steve took a deep breath. “I have friends and family,” he said slowly. “People I love. That’s more than just the job.” He cleared his throat. “But the job…I have to fight it all the time to keep it from taking everything I love away, even as I fight to do the job to my last breath.” Steve huffed. “It’ll probably say that on my grave – ‘he fought to do the job to his last breath.’”

“No, it’ll say he didn’t listen when Danny said slow down.” 

He acknowledged the joke with a little smile, but it faded quickly. “You’ve got good kids, Danny. They’re going to grow up to make you proud. You’re not Kyle Kane.”

“No, I’m not. But he wasn’t that person when his kids were this age, either.” 

“If he wasn’t, would he have turned to that kind of violence as his answer?” 

Danny shrugged. “Would someone shoot an unarmed man in cold blood if he was a good person?”

The mention of that whole situation never failed to send a small part of Steve’s brain into a panic not unlike the one it was in when Danny was in a Colombian prison. “Yes, if it was what had to be done.” 

“One could argue that’s what Kane was doing.”

“It’s not the same thing. The people Kane went after, the ones he hurt, they were innocent.”

Danny waved a hand. “Semantics.” He drained the rest of his club soda and set it aside, holding out a hand for another. “God, I miss beer,” he said as he opened the can and took a long drink before he looked back out at the street. “When you were in the hospital,” he said, “and we found the guy who shot you…I caught him. Did I tell you that?”

“No.” He hadn’t wanted to ask, hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but if Danny was going to talk about it, he’d listen.

Danny nodded. “He was trying to get away in the gunfight and I caught up with him. First shot knocked his gun out of his hand, and I stood there, and man…I could have shot him. I wanted to, so bad, and he was just egging me on. Nobody would’ve known. Hell, people would’ve bought me drinks for ridding the world of him. And oh boy did I want him dead.” 

He turned his head to look at Steve. “I couldn’t do it.”

“See? You’re a good person.”

There was that humorless laugh again. “No, it had nothing to do with being good. I couldn’t help you if I went to jail or lost my job. I couldn’t help you if I went down that same dark hole after I killed Reyes. That’s why I didn’t pull the trigger,” Danny said, eyes drifting back out to the street. “Because I needed to be there for whatever happened to you in the hospital.”

“That makes you a better person than me,” Steve said. “If the situation had been reversed, I’d have shot him and slept like a baby.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Danny shook his head. “You had the chance to kill Hesse and Wo Fat, more than one chance. And you did it by the book every time until you had no choice.”

“That feels like another person a lifetime ago. I don’t know that it’s who I am anymore.”

Danny turned back to him again. “I do. I know you.”

The idea of Danny knowing who he was, warts and all, no longer scared him the way it once had. No one else had bothered to worm their way in like Danny. No one had tried to understand. Steve had made sure of it, and he still wondered sometimes why he’d let Danny in.

The other days he just ignored the reason he could just see lurking out of the corner of his eye.

“I should go,” Steve said, pushing on his knees to stand, feeling a million years old with the effort. “Someone keeps nagging me that I have to get sleep to make my liver happy.”

“You mean you actually listen?”

Steve smiled down at him. “I always listen.”

“Oh, so comprehension is your problem.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Good night, Danno.” 

“Night.”

Steve headed for the car, turning his head a couple of times to see Danny still sitting there, staring out at the street. 

***


	6. Chapter 6

“I mean seriously,” Danny said, “I know we’ve seen some sick people and all, but a death cult? Really?”

“Yeah.” 

Danny looked at Steve, who clearly wasn’t listening, just replying out of habit. “You okay over there?” Steve kept watching the road. “Hello? Earth to Steve.”

He shook his head a little and glanced at Danny. “Sorry, what?”

“Everything okay?”

Steve shook his head, but said, “Yeah, I’m fine, just…tired.”

Which was a lie, but Danny knew he wouldn’t get anything else right now. They were pulling up to his house anyway. “You should come in,” Danny said, as Steve pulled into the driveway. He could see Steve about to make an excuse and went in for the kill. “I know Charlie would love to show off his costume.”

“Maybe just for a little while.” 

They walked in to find Charlie and Grace on the couch eating candy and Jerry at the table on his computer. “Hey guys,” Jerry said, closing the computer and standing up. “We had a very successful trick-or-treat night.”

“I can see that,” Danny said, nodding at the kids. “You even got Grace to actually go in costume.” 

Jerry shrugged, a move that looked weird with his costume. “I think Charlie had a lot to do with that.” He picked up his computer. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Thanks, Jerry,” Danny said, walking him out. Danny closed the door and turned to find Steve looking at a pumpkin on the table, the look on his face familiar. Danny had seen it earlier at the crime scene when Eric was telling his story about Danny’s Halloween prank. The look was…indulgent, for lack of a better word. But that word wasn’t quite right. 

He’d add it to the long list of McGarrett related issues he wasn’t thinking about. 

“You know, you can stare at that pumpkin all you want,” Danny said. “It’s not turning into a carriage.” 

“Well that’s good, because since it’s a Danny pumpkin it would probably turn into a crank car that screams all the time.” 

“I do not—wait, what?”

Danny moved around the table to stand beside Steve, getting his first look at the front of the pumpkin. “That looks nothing like me.”

“Whatever you say, Pumpkin.”

That look was still there, and Danny studied it. He was missing something, and he hated missing things. 

“Uncle Steve!” 

Charlie’s yell, followed by running footsteps, took Steve’s attention and forced Danny to put the thoughts aside for later.

***

Danny came back from tucking Charlie in to find Steve at the table, looking down at the pumpkin with that look again. “I still say it looks nothing like me,” Danny said.

“Well, I think maybe its mouth should be open, Pumpkin,” Steve said, “but otherwise….” 

Danny decided to ignore it. “You want a drink?” 

“I suppose beer is still out of the question?” 

“Afraid so, even after a day like today.” Danny nodded at the door. “Meet you out there in a second.”

He grabbed some club sodas from the fridge—Steve had been right, while they tasted nothing like beer, somehow it was still better than anything else for nights like this when beer wasn’t an option. 

Steve was sitting down, staring up at the sky, when Danny went out onto the porch. Danny sat down next to him, trying to figure out when this had become the normal conversation spot instead of the chairs behind Steve’s house. Not that they never sat there, but it was less frequent these days.

Given Danny’s shared custody, it made sense. But Danny wasn’t sure if that was the reason, or if it had more to do with Steve avoiding the house and all the ghosts – living and dead – in it.

Steve’s words to Julie Hillman came back to Danny again. _“I understand how this must haunt you, knowing that your running away affected your dad the way it did, and if you’d have just gone home your dad would probably still be alive right now. I can see how blaming Marjorie was easier.”_

Was that Steve’s way of saying he blamed his dad’s death on his mother’s running away? Or on his own? Or was it his mother’s disappearing act Steve was taking the blame for now? Impossible to say, and just as impossible to ask, but if there was a way to take the blame for something, Steve McGarrett excelled at finding it. 

“You okay?” Danny asked. 

“I’m okay.” 

Okay. Not good. Not great. Just okay. In McGarrett-speak that was almost an admission. “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve met his eyes. “About what?”

“Whatever’s got you just…okay.” 

Steve shook his head, his eyes clear enough that Danny knew whatever it was, it wasn’t weighing too heavily. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Worrying was Danny’s job, especially when it came to family. And Steve was absolutely that. “Okay. Just trying to help.”

“You do.” Steve’s gaze was warm. “This,” he said, waving back towards the house, “being included in your family…it helps.”

The words warmed Danny as much as that look. “Maybe we should get Jerry to carve a Steve pumpkin.”

“No. One pumpkin in this partnership is enough.” Steve’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Pumpkin.” 

“Like it’s not bad enough you call me Danno? You have to call me that now?” 

“You love it when I call you Danno and you know it.”

Steve wasn’t wrong, not now, but Danny wasn’t about to confess. “Oh, right, like I love it when you drive my car?” 

The banter was familiar, even old at this point, but it never failed to distract Steve, so why stop now? Anything was worth Steve being his usual self.

Even being called Pumpkin. 

***


	7. Chapter 7

“You?” Danny kicked back on the bed and settled in against the pillow before pulling the blankets over him. “You’re cooking?”

“Yes, Danny,” Steve said. “I’m cooking. What’s wrong with that?”

Only that Steve McGarrett’s idea of cooking dinner for a woman was less actual cooking and more movie action hero cliché. “By ‘cooking’ you mean you have steaks ready to put on the grill, right?”

“No, I mean actually cooking food. In the kitchen. Including dessert.” 

“Since when do you know how to make dessert?”

“Well normally I don’t have to—one of the benefits of you learning how to cook.”

Danny shifted the phone to his other ear. “Well now I’m going to insist.” After all, if he could cook for Lynn, who he’d known for five minutes, he could make at least one dessert for Danny.

“Well, maybe if you ask nicely.” There was a beeping sound in the background. “Speaking of dessert, I gotta go get it out of the oven before it burns. I’m glad your dad’s doing well—tell him I’m thinking about him.” 

“I will, thanks,” Danny said. “Good luck tonight. Hope she doesn’t end up with food poisoning.” 

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m a little funny.” 

“Funny looking, maybe.” The beeping got louder. “I’m going now. Goodbye, Daniel.”

“Bye.”

Danny hit the end button and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. Steve McGarrett, cooking actual food for a date. Who’d have thought it? Danny certainly wouldn’t have pegged Lynn to be important enough to Steve to make that kind of effort, not after the years of Catherine complaining about Steve doing the exact opposite.

Then again, near death experiences did tend to shine a light on your mistakes sometimes. 

Danny turned onto his side and switched off the light, punching the pillow a few times and closing his eyes to sleep.

***

Danny woke slowly, poking his head out of the covers, surprised at the bright sun streaming in the windows. Sleep had been slow in coming, and not exactly restful when it had. Given everything that had happened in the last few months, it wasn’t that surprising—his dad’s surgery was the latest in a line of waiting for word from hospitals, and the word hadn’t always been good.

He grabbed his phone, wincing at the time. His mom was probably already at the hospital, and he’d have to call Bridget if he wanted a ride. 

Next time he came in he was renting a car, no matter what anyone said. 

He saw the missed call first, then the voicemail symbol. He tapped on it, Steve’s voice kicking in a second after. 

“Danny, something’s come up, and I have to go out of town for a few days. Everything’s fine, just couldn’t leave you a letter, what with you being five thousand miles away, so I figured a voicemail was the next best thing.” There was a long pause before Steve finished, his voice softer, “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Danny put down the phone to cover his face with both hands. How Steve had gone from cooking dinner for his girlfriend to leaving town in a couple of hours Danny didn’t even want to contemplate, but if he did, it was a short list these days, mostly consisting of Doris or Catherine.

How Steve managed to let a woman in enough to cook her dinner after his experiences with those two Danny was still trying to figure out. Maybe it was that Lynn didn’t seem inclined to suddenly join the CIA. Or maybe there was something Danny wasn’t seeing. Maybe one day he’d actually ask.

After all, they were both allowed to drink again, and were probably lightweights at this point compared to the past. Surely he could get drunk enough to ask.

He called Steve’s cell phone, unsurprised for it to go to voicemail. Steve was probably flying somewhere—hopefully at least not a country the US had horrible relations with. 

Danny still had a twitch whenever he saw Kim Jong-un on TV. 

He got dressed, trying Steve’s phone a couple more times. Steve had said only something had come up. There wasn’t any reason to worry. It wasn’t like every time Danny went to New Jersey Steve got himself into trouble.

But Danny had seen the wound on Steve’s back where Madison Gray had stabbed him last time. And Steve knew Danny was too far away right now to do anything until Steve was gone. 

He pulled up Kono’s number, waiting through three rings for her to answer, the road noise in the background making it clear she was in the car. “Hey,” Danny said, not bothering with small talk. “Did Steve tell you where he was going?” 

“Steve went somewhere?”

Fuck. “He left me a voicemail last night that something came up and he had to go out of town for a few days. I was hoping maybe he’d filled you guys in on the details.”

“I haven’t heard from him.”

Her voice echoed the concern Danny was feeling. “Okay, we need to check with the rest of the team. See if he told anyone. He was having dinner with Lynn last night, I can call her--” 

“Let me deal with it, Danny. You worry about your dad. I’ll call you as soon as I know something, okay?”

“Okay.” Once again he was sidelined thousands of miles away when Steve was AWOL. “You’ll call me immediately?” 

“As soon as I know anything at all, I promise. But Danny, this is Steve. Wherever he is, he’ll be okay.”

Yeah, she hadn’t seen him literally get riddled with bullets. And she’d been left behind when they’d rescued Steve from the back of a truck in North Korea. She really didn’t have the mental library of Steve McGarrett’s version of ‘okay.’ “Right,” Danny said, because she was expecting it. 

“I’ll call you soon.”

She hung up, and he put the phone down, taking a deep breath before picking it up again and putting it in his pocket. 

He couldn’t do anything from here but go see his dad. 

***

Danny sat back, watching his parents. His mom sat on the bed beside his dad, holding his hand. It was almost difficult to remember that they’d come so close to a divorce, and he hoped that they stayed like this until they were at least a hundred.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He left the room as he answered. “Kono, what’s going on?”

“He didn’t let any of us know what was going on,” Kono said, and Danny did not envy Steve the conversation that was going to lead to, not based on her tone. “But I called Lynn.” 

Danny waited, but when Kono didn’t finish, he prompted, “And?”

“Apparently Catherine showed up at his house and said his mom was in trouble, and then they left together.”

Great, so it wasn’t either of them, it was both. Fantastic. “Did she say what kind of trouble? Or where they were going?”

“Steve didn’t share that with her.”

There’s a shock. “So what now?”

“We’re looking for him. We’ll let you know as soon as we find him, okay?”

Like he had a choice? “Okay. Just…keep me posted.”

“Will do. Don’t worry, we’ll find him. He’ll be fine.”

Yeah, that’s what Danny told himself every time. “Right.” 

Because he had to be fine. Danny wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

***

The hospital kicked them out eventually, saying Eddie needed a nap. Danny thought it was more the people in the nearby rooms needed a nap—the Williams family could be kind of loud at times.

They’d just gotten home when Grace called. “Hey,” Danny said. He went into the living room and sat down on the couch. “What’s wrong? You should be at school.”

“I am, but Will just told me that Kono showed up at his house asking Mr. Grover about Uncle Steve.”

Dammit. “What about him?”

“That he was just gone and they didn’t know where.” 

Danny saw his sister come into the room. “He left me a message that he was going, Grace. He didn’t just disappear.” Close enough, but telling her that wouldn’t help.

“Then where did he go?”

He’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask. “It’s classified,” Danny said, 

There was a long pause before she said, “But he’s going to be okay?”

“Of course. He’s going to be fine. He’s Uncle Steve.” 

“Okay.”

Bridget sat down next to Danny as he said, “Don’t you need to get to your next class?”

“Yeah. Love you, Danno.”

“Love you, too.” 

Danny put the phone in his pocket and sat back, closing his eyes. Bad enough Steve had to worry him and the rest of the team, now Grace was in the mix. 

“So,” Bridget said after a moment. “Something wrong with Steve?”

Danny shrugged. “I’d have to know where he was to know the answer to that.”

“Does he disappear a lot? Or does he only do it to act out when you’re here?”

Danny opened his eyes, turning his head until he could meet her gaze. “You have no idea the kinds of trouble that man can get up to if I’m not there to stop him.” He thought for a second. “Though he manages to still get into a lot of trouble when I am there, too, so….”

His phone rang, Kono’s name on the screen. “You find him?” Danny asked as he answered.

“Yeah, his cell phone came back on. He’s in Morocco.” 

“The black site.”

It wasn’t a question, but Kono confirmed it anyway. “It has to be. Chin, Grover and I are heading out to back them up.”

Danny sat up straighter. “You actually talked to him?”

“No, you think he’d actually answer the phone?” Kono laughed. “And if he did, he’d just tell us not to come. So we’re going to take a page out of the McGarrett handbook and just go without asking.”

Not for the first time, Danny thanked whatever star had landed him this team. Even with its high level of crazy. “Let me know when you find him?”

“Of course.” Kono’s voice softened. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure he gets back in one piece.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Later.”

Danny shoved the phone back into his pocket and slouched back into the couch again. “They know where he is,” he told Bridget. “They’re headed out to help him.” 

“Help him what?”

“No idea.” And he probably didn’t want to know. 

“But you’re worried about him?”

Danny gave her half a smile. “I spend a lot of my waking hours worried about him. And probably some of the sleeping ones, too.” 

She studied him long enough that he had to force himself not to squirm. “What?” he asked finally.

“You realize that your whole team is headed out there, but Steve’s the only one you’re worried about?” 

“No, I’m worried about all of them.” 

He knew that look. He’d seen that look the first time he’d denied that he had any kind of a crush on the Homecoming Queen. “Danny.” 

“I am.” And he was, he was absolutely worried about all of them. Steve, for whatever Catherine and Doris had dragged him into, and the rest of the team, for going to clean up the mess without knowing what they were going into.

“Okay,” Bridget said slowly. “But you’re more worried about Steve.”

Danny shrugged. “He’s the most likely to throw himself to the wolves to get all the rest of them out. Of course I’m more worried about him. He wouldn’t know what self-preservation was if you gave him a standard operating procedure manual on it.”

Bridget shook her head. “You don’t see it.”

“See what?”

She patted him on the leg before she stood up. “I’ll let you figure it out,” she said, as she left the room wondering just what the hell she thought she knew and why she wouldn’t tell him.

***

The call from Kono came in the middle of the night, but it wasn’t like Danny had actually been able to sleep. “You get him?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Everyone’s safe.” 

Danny let out a long breath. “No new gaping wounds, no head trauma or anything?”

“Nope—honestly, I think this is the least injured we’ve ever pulled him out of anywhere.”

That there was list to compare it to was something Danny tried not to think about. “Is he there?” 

“He’s off in the bathroom. I didn’t want to deal with twenty questions about me reporting in to you.”

Or she’d heard that he’d forced Chin to hand over the phone the last time something like this happened. “Tell him to call me?”

“I’m sure he will—he did leave you the message after all, not us.”

“He’d better.” Danny scrubbed a hand over his face. “Thanks, Kono.”

“That’s what family’s for, brah.” He heard a voice in the background. “Gotta go. Don’t worry.”

“Have you met me?”

She laughed. “Well, worry less, then.” 

She hung up, and after a second, Danny put the phone back on the nightstand. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, turning the conversation with Bridget over in his head. 

_”I’ll let you figure it out.”_

What, exactly, was he supposed to be figuring out? That Steve mattered? That he was worried about losing the guy he’d nearly lost more times than he could count? That the thought of having to tell Grace something happened to Steve was something he tried never to think about? 

That the thought of losing Steve was like being trapped in a garbage compactor with the walls closing in? 

Steve was more of a brother to him than Matt had been in so many ways. He _was_ Danny’s closest family—hell, he and Danny shared a liver. Of course he was important. 

That was all there was to it. End of story.

And Bridget could mind her own damn business.

***


	8. Chapter 8

Steve watched the doors of the airport, waiting until he saw Danny to get out of the car. He popped the trunk and let Danny toss his bag in before getting back behind the wheel and pulling out into traffic.

“How’s your dad doing?” Steve asked. 

“He’s good. Back home,” Danny said. “How’s your mom?”

 _Here we go._ “She’s fine.”

“Well I am certainly glad to hear that, seeing as how you went off to break into a CIA black site to help her with just a voicemail to me no help.”

Steve winced at the tone. Then again, he’d known what that voicemail would get him. “I had help. I had Catherine.”

“Oh, yeah, because the last time you went off with her ‘help,’ as you call it, I ended up in Jalalabad staring at your face, which looked like it had been through three car wrecks, waiting to see if you woke up,” Danny snapped. “That helps, thanks.”

Steve could almost see Danny’s point, but since he’d do the same thing all over again, there wasn’t much else he could say. “Danny, it wasn’t the same thing.”

“Well, I guess not—at least the CIA isn’t the Taliban. Though I’m not sure which one of those wants you dead more at this point.”

“Anyway, thanks to your ever-so-helpful calls back here, our entire team came running, and it all turned out fine.” 

“Oh, right, you mean my big mouth?” At Steve’s glance, Danny shook his head. “You think the rest of the team and I don’t talk?” 

He’d kind of been hoping that was the case, at least on this point. “Look, I didn’t want them to put themselves in danger, not for this. And I knew they would. So….” 

“So you left me the message, knowing there’d be nothing I could do until you were already gone.”

It wasn’t a question, and Steve wasn’t surprised Danny had figured it out, but he nodded anyway. “I didn’t think they’d track me down and come after me.”

“Then you don’t know them as well as you should.”

He did, he really did, he’d just deluded himself into thinking they wouldn’t. Or maybe he’d thought trying would absolve him of the guilt if anyone got hurt. “Maybe,” he said finally.

Danny’s tone was softer a moment later when he asked, “So what did Catherine have to say?”

“She told me my mom was in danger.”

Danny’s look might as well have been a punch. “And you two talked about nothing else the entire time?”

Steve sighed. “She thanked me for saving her life. And she wished me well with Lynn.” He hesitated for a long moment before adding, quietly, “after she said she’d have married me if I’d asked.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Lynn slipped and told Catherine I’d been planning to ask,” Steve said. “So just before she left, I asked her what she’d have said. And she said she’d have accepted.” 

Danny took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, his voice measured in that way it only got when he was doing his best not to punch someone. “Look,” he said carefully, “you know I love Catherine. But Steve…you cannot wait for her. Just the fact that she told you she’d have married you seconds before she took off again…who does that to someone they love?”

 _My mother?_ “Danny, I’m not waiting for her, okay?”

“Good.” 

“But I get it.” Steve glanced at him, settling a little at the sight of Danny’s face, listening instead of preparing another argument. “I got a chance to talk to mom, and she told me where to find her journal and…I understand now. I get her. I get Catherine. And I love them both, but I’m not expecting either of them to come home. And I’m not waiting for them either.”

Danny nodded. “Good. That’s good.” 

He was right, whatever misgivings Steve still had about how things went down, if Catherine had said yes, somewhere down the line Steve could have been his father. He’d come close enough as it was, probably would have gone full on John McGarrett, if it hadn’t been for Danny. And the rest of their team.

Though mostly Danny, if he was honest. 

“So does it help?” Danny asked. “Having answers?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess, maybe.” He sighed. “In some ways it’s like closing two chapters of my life. But what do I do with the blank pages that are left, you know?”

He looked at Danny, could see a hint of a smile on Danny’s face. “You fill them up,” he said softly.

_”Your worth is measured in the closure you bring. In the people you save. That’s your real legacy, and the best legacy a man can leave behind is the people whose lives he’s changed.”_

Those words had played over in his mind so many times. But he still wasn’t sure the old man was right. After all, for all that he’d said it, he’d been married for decades. Clearly the job hadn’t been everything for him.

Maybe it shouldn’t be all Steve had, either. But if it wasn’t, then what?

“So what now?” Danny asked.

So close to Steve’s own thoughts that for a second he wondered if Danny could read his mind. “Hm?”

“No more waiting for Doris or Catherine to show up,” Danny said. “How are you going to fill those pages?”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe I’ll take up knitting.”

“Knitting?” Danny laughed. “You realize that takes patience, right?”

“I have patience.”

“You? Patience?”

“I put up with you, don’t I? That shows patience.” 

He listened to Danny’s list of all the ways Steve forced him to have infinite patience while having none of his own, every word grounding him a little more. 

***

Danny looked at the hole in the wall that seemed to be growing smaller the longer he looked at it. A fourteen-year-old kid had just crawled in there. The least he could do was man up and follow.

He got down on the floor and crawled in, focusing on the light Will was shining ahead of them. It should’ve been making the place look brighter, but all it did for Danny was highlight how close the walls were. What a tiny space it was, with so little air that his chest felt constricted, like he was running out of oxygen—

No. Stop. Pull it together, Williams. Your daughter is counting on you.

Will checked on him, and Danny admitted his claustrophobia before looking for distraction. “Talk to me about Grace,” he said, because why not find a different misery to focus on? 

“She’s smart. And funny.”

Which is what any kid would tell his girlfriend’s father. “Funny? You can’t do better than that?” 

“She’s my best friend. We have stuff in common, like our Dads are both cops. We both like winter and miss the snow. You know, she’s just really honest. If I say something stupid, she’ll just call me out on it.”

“That’s really great,” Danny said, breathing a little easier as he saw the exit ahead. “Sounds just like her mother.” 

As he crawled out of the dark, Danny realized it also sounded a lot like Danny’s relationship with Steve, which didn’t make any sense at all.

 _I’ll let you figure it out._ Bridget had said. And his mom, when he’d said he didn’t understand her cryptic comments, had said, _You will._

It did make sense, it made perfect sense all of a sudden, and he shut down that whole line of thought. He could think about that later, if he was feeling particularly masochistic. 

Right now he had to save his daughter.

***

“McGarrett, party over! You need to get your ass down here right now!”

The line went dead in the middle of a long round of gunfire. Steve held the phone to his ear for a moment more, his brain needing a second to comprehend what had just happened. Danny, Grace and Will were all at that dance. Grover was under fire. No one was safe. 

Fuck.

He shoved the fear aside, locked it down where it wouldn’t interfere with his job. Because he would bring them all back safe. 

There was no other alternative. 

“Shots fired at the dance,” Steve said, shoving his chair back and running for the stairs to change clothes. “Chin, call Kono, tell her to meet us there. We leave in three minutes.” 

***

By the time they arrived on scene, HPD and SWAT had already rolled in. There were no signs of anyone who’d been inside, however, so Danny, Grace and Will were all likely still trapped in there. 

“The gunfire had to have been Danny,” Grover said. “So he’s clearly doing his best to be a thorn in their sides.”

“Yeah, well, he excels at that,” Steve said. And would continue to for decades, while they watched Grace get older, get married and have kids. 

Steve was going to make sure of it. 

***

Danny opened the crawl space, relieved to see Will and Jeremy still safe. The cavalry was going to roll into the building any second and they were all going to go home safe and sound.

Which, of course, was when he heard his name on the radio. He knew the terrorists had the student list, and it wouldn’t take long to figure out who his kid was. 

No time at all, in fact. They’d done it already.

Two minutes left no time to balk at the idea of using a tenth grader for bait. As long as they got in there, no one would die just yet. The terrorists needed the kid for something. 

But they didn’t need Grace. 

Danny swallowed his fear—it wouldn’t do Grace any good. “Sorry, Jeremy, I hate to do this, but we have to go. Now. Or a lot of people are gonna die.” 

Jeremy nodded and crawled out. Will started to follow, but Danny told him to stay put. “I need someone outside that room, okay?”

Will nodded as Danny closed the crawl space door on him and headed for the ballroom, Jeremy in tow.

***

The moment Steve saw the blocked number on his phone he knew. Danny had sent the terrorists straight to Steve. 

But that also meant Danny wasn’t roaming around free anymore.

Steve asked for assurance about the hostages, relieved to hear Danny’s voice telling him they’re not hurt. It didn’t help, having Danny trapped in there and unable to provide eyes and ears, but at least he was there for Grace. 

And Steve was outside for both of them. 

As was their whole team, and their team had never been this motivated. There was no way this ended with anyone other than the terrorists dead. 

***

Danny listened as the head terrorist threatened Steve, an argument that Danny knew wasn’t going anywhere on either side if he didn’t do something. And maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get a message across in the process.

He convinced the guy to let him have the phone, finding as many ways to get ‘call’ and ‘Will’ into his words as possible, hoping these guys didn’t pick up on the name of the missing boy and Steve did. 

When it was done, he laid back down on the floor and held Grace, hoping he and Steve were still just as much on the same wavelength as always. 

***

As they breached the doors, Steve was ready to take down anyone who stood in his way by any means necessary, with his bare hands if needed. But after few exchanges of gunfire, thankfully well above the heads of the hostages, it was over.

“Grace!” he called out. “Where’s Grace? Where’s Grace Williams!” 

“Uncle Steve!”

The words added to the adrenaline already racing through him, and he rushed over to Grace, pulling her into his arms, happy to have her squeeze him as tightly as he was sure he was squeezing her back. He held on for a moment before pulling back, studying her face. “You okay?” At her nod, he said, “You sure?” She nodded again.

Reassured, he turned to see Danny looking like he’d aged a hundred years in one night. Steve wanted to grab him even tighter than he had Grace and never let go. Which would be completely inappropriate in a room full of kids. Or anywhere, he reminded himself.

“What, nothing?” Steve said, forcing his tone to be somewhat normal, at least for them. “Nothing? No hug?”

“I am so happy to see you right now,” Danny said, a little breathless, “I’ll give you a hug, I’ll give you a kiss--pick a base.”

“Gimme the hug,” Steve said, pulling Danny in close. The mental imagery at the thought of kisses and bases that might be there to be had assaulted his brain, and he pushed them aside. He’d been able to banish them to dreams on bad nights for a while now, so they could just get back there and stay. 

Right now he just wanted to enjoy the feel of Danny so close, and so safe. 

Danny let go, but after a moment, he pulled Steve in again, propelling him towards the door at the same time. “What took you so long, huh?” Danny asked.

“We weren’t sure what we were walking into,” Steve said. “If you hadn’t gotten us that message about Will…he’s a brave kid.”

“He’s a Grover,” Danny said. 

Steve watched as Danny and Grace shared a smile and figured maybe Grace would get to keep her boyfriend without much of a fight. 

***

Danny drove Grace home from the diner, not surprised that she nodded off within two minutes. Being held hostage was exhausting. He tried not to think about how well she knew that by now. She’d turned out great so far, despite everything, but Kyle Kane was still there in the back of Danny’s mind, his family an example of what could happen. 

Tonight was just another reminder, too, of how much Danny could be Kyle Kane if he wasn’t careful. But he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure it never got to that, that his kids would never end up like that. 

Grace had grown too big for him to carry inside, but she leaned on him, all but sleep walking into the house and into her room. Danny paid the babysitter and checked in on Charlie, who’d been asleep for hours, before going out front and sitting down on the porch.

 _Pick a base._ He’d said it with the reckless impulsiveness that got him into trouble whenever it reared its ugly head. But now that he was out of immediate danger, he couldn’t hide from the fact that he’d meant it.

He’d never admit it to Steve, but he’d meant it. 

Steve had gone for Grace like she was his own, making sure she was okay and hugging her like his life depended on it. His hug was when Danny had finally believed the whole thing was over. They were safe. Grace was safe. As long as Steve was there, they’d always be safe. 

His mother and sister had clearly figured it out long ago. He wondered how many other people had figured it out before he had, if he was really that obvious. If his team had any idea. 

Not that it mattered. He’d go in tomorrow like he hadn’t had any life-altering revelations, and act just the same. Because to do anything else would be suspicious. And he couldn’t have that.

Not calling Steve now that he was home would be suspicious, too. And Danny really didn’t want Steve giving him the third degree in the morning. And, if he was honest, he didn’t want to resist the urge to call in the first place.

Steve answered on the first ring, like he’d been waiting by the phone. Or, possibly, Danny had turned into a teenage girl after spending half the night on the floor with a bunch of them. “Grace okay?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, she’s asleep already. Tonight was exhausting.” 

“Did she and Will get their dance, though?”

Danny huffed, smiling at the memory. “Yeah, they did.” 

“Good. She could do a lot worse, Danny.”

“No argument there, my friend. Will came through big time tonight.” 

“Well, he had someone in there he cared about,” Steve said. “That made it even more important.” 

His voice was a little off, but it had been a rough night. “He did better in the crawl space than I did, that’s for sure.”

“Oh man, that must’ve been rough.” 

Danny wanted to wallow in the sympathy and care in that voice. “Let’s just say my claustrophobia hasn’t gone anywhere.” Danny leaned against the column, looking up at the sky. “He distracted me talking about why he likes Grace.”

“What did he say?”

“That she’s smart and funny and his best friend. And that she calls him on his crap.”

There was a long pause before Steve said, “Sounds like a pretty good foundation for a relationship.”

“It does,” Danny said. “At least until the friendship disappears under all the crap until that’s all that’s left.” 

Steve sighed. “That doesn’t have to happen to every relationship, Danny.” 

“Past experience would say otherwise.” 

“The past is no guarantee of the future.”

Danny huffed. “Look who’s suddenly Mr. Optimist.” 

“You were the one who told me to fill my pages,” Steve reminded him. “I can’t exactly start doing that if I assume everything’s going to go to hell, right?”

Which was an excellent point, and one Danny couldn’t think about right then. Especially not when he wanted to be an integral part of filling those pages in ways Steve didn’t need to know about. “You might have a point.” 

“Wow, for you that’s as good as admitting I’m right.”

“I’m going to bed now, Steven.” 

Steve cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse as he said, “Night, Danno.”

“Good night.” 

Danny hung up, shoving the phone in his pocket as he stood up and went back inside. He turned off the lamps in the living room, but he still couldn’t bring himself to try to go to sleep, not yet. He sat down on the couch, staring out the window at the moon, wondering why he couldn’t wish for it instead of Steve McGarrett. It would be easier to get. And a lot easier to deal with. 

“Danno?”

He turned to see Grace coming down the hall. “Hey, monkey. I thought you were asleep.”

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” She stopped at the couch. “Is it okay if I sit out here for a little while?”

“Of course.” He patted the cushion right next to him, and she sat down quickly, leaning into him. Danny put his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled in closer, like she was eight again. “Should we watch some TV?”

“Yeah.”

Danny grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, flipping around until he found The Princess Bride. Grace had loved that movie growing up. He started to put the remote down, then looked at her. “Oh, sorry, you’re probably too old for this movie now, right?”

He aimed the remote at the TV, but she grabbed his hand and pulled it down. “No, it’s fine,” she said quickly. “You’re never too old for this movie. It’s a classic.” 

He put the remote down and settled in, happy in the knowledge that his kids were safe and there with him, at least for tonight.

***


	9. Chapter 9

Steve was drying his hands in the kitchen when he heard the knock at the door. Given the timing, it had to be Danny. As Steve made his way to the door, he tried to remember when Danny had started knocking. It wasn’t like it was a big deal, except suddenly it kind of was. 

He opened the door to find Danny standing there, hands full with food for Thanksgiving. Which could be a reason for the knocking, but he’d managed to get a hand free to knock. That hand could just as easily have been used to open the door.

“Hey,” Steve said. “Come on in.” 

He turned and went back towards the kitchen, the words, “you don’t have to knock,” sticking in his throat. 

As he checked on the turkey, Steve could hear Danny pulling things out of bags and putting them away, pulling plates out of the cabinets like he lived there. He knew where everything was and didn’t ask what Steve wanted done with anything.

So why the hell did he knock?

“You talk to Grace and Charlie this morning?” Steve asked, glancing over his shoulder as he stirred green beans that were doing just fine without his help.

“Yeah, Grace skyped me earlier, so I got to see both of them.”

Steve turned around, leaning on the counter. “Sorry, buddy. I know it sucks having them gone on a family holiday.”

“I hate it, but at least I have them half the time year-round. And skype is better than just the phone.” Danny shrugged. “It could be worse.”

Coming from Danny that was almost optimism. “True.”

“What about you?” Danny asked, putting the cranberry sauce he always insisted on that Steve had never understood, since it never actually got eaten, into a bowl. “You hear from your mom and Mary?”

Steve nodded. “Mary called this morning, and I got a text from Mom.”

Danny’s eyebrows shot up. “A whole text? Wow.” 

Steve shrugged. “It could be worse.” 

Danny’s smile loosened a little of the tension in Steve’s shoulders. “Touché. I guess we do the best we can when our family can’t be here?”

“I like to think my family _is_ here,” Steve said, the words coming out before he’d fully thought them through. It sounded far more painfully honest than he’d realized, the tension seeping back into his shoulders as he watched Danny consider the words. 

“You might have a point there,” Danny said softly, dusting perfectly clean hands off on his pants. “I left the drinks in the car,” he said. “Be right back.”

Steve watched him go, playing over the conversation in his head and wondering what the hell had just happened.

***

Steve stared at the label on the Longboard in his hand, cursing the effects the transplant had on his tolerance. He’d just opened his third one, but he felt like he’d had a six pack. 

He looked around the living room. Most of their friends had left, the food pretty much demolished hours ago, and it was down to Chin and Abby and Kono and Adam, looking like the adoring couples they were, and Danny. 

Danny, who’d had a couple more beers than Steve and also didn’t have the highest tolerance anymore. Who was busy grumbling about Grover, who’d gone home with his family not long before. 

“He’s probably sitting there now, telling Will how he should break up with Grace,” Danny said. “Like Will could do better than my daughter?”

“I’m sure that’s not what he thinks,” Abby said. “Grace is great.” 

“Yeah, Danny,” Kono added. “Grace is a fantastic kid. Grover knows that.”

Danny’s hmph that moved his entire body as he said it indicated he’d had enough alcohol that he’d probably be sleeping on Steve’s couch. “Yeah, right, that’s why he was telling me how he thought the two of them should break up. That Grace was a distraction.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way,” Kono said. “You just need to talk to him again.” 

Danny hmphed again, almost falling off his chair. “Any guy would be lucky to have Grace.”

“Of course,” Steve said, patting Danny on the shoulder, his hand staying there, enjoying the warmth. “No one could do better. She’s your daughter, after all.”

Steve glanced around the room, eyes resting on Kono, who was watching him sharply. He removed his hand from Danny’s shoulder quickly and stood up, gathering empty bottles of the coffee table. “Anybody want another drink?” he asked, pausing long enough to see there were no takers before he fled to the kitchen.

He’d washed out two bottles before he heard footsteps behind him. “I brought the rest,” Kono said. He heard the clinking noises as she sat them on the island, but no footsteps to indicate she’d left. 

Steve turned around, almost meeting her eyes. “Thanks. Just leave them there, I’ll get them.”

He might not be meeting her gaze, but he could still see her expression, serious and not about to give up, he realized, heart sinking a little. “Steve—“

“Can you see if I left any plates?”

“There aren’t any. Which you know.”

He did, but he’d hoped she’d give him the out. “Why would I ask you to look if I knew that?”

He did know that look, though, had seen it on her face whenever perps gave an answer that made it look like they thought Five-0 was particularly stupid. “Look, I don’t want to force any life-altering revelations with most of the team in the next room, but—“

“Then don’t.”

“But,” she said again, “Danny’s not stupid.” 

He hadn’t figured it out yet, though. Unless his knocking on the door was a subtle hint that he had, that he was trying to take less liberties, lest Steve get the wrong idea. 

Or possibly Steve was going crazy. 

“Kono, just leave it.”

Her features softened, that kindness he always associated with her, even when she was at her most bad ass, seeping back in. “Okay,” she said. “But again, Danny’s not stupid. And you don’t really think he’s going to just leave it when he figures it out, do you?”

Maybe. Maybe not. Danny wasn’t one to leave something alone if he wanted to talk about it. But if he didn’t it could take you years to drill through the walls he put up to avoid it. “I’ll deal with that if it happens,” Steve said. 

“When,” Kono said. “Not if. Trust me.” 

He did, but he hoped she was wrong, just this once. Or if she wasn’t, that Danny waited until Steve knew what the hell he was going to say if Danny did bring it up. 

“You know,” she said, a soft smile on her face as she stepped forward, putting her hand on Steve’s arm. “It might not be as bad as you think.”

There was nothing funny about his laugh. “Right. And torture is a walk in the park.”

“Danny is nothing like torture.”

“You’ve never spent a stake out alone with him.”

“Maybe that’s what you need,” Kono said. 

Steve stepped back, removing her hand from his arm. “I think that would be a bad thing, under the circumstances.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She gave him a smile. “But if I were you, I would start figuring out what you want for when Danny asks.”

“Kono….”

She held both hands up. “I’m done,” she said, taking a step backwards. “For now.” 

She turned and left the room. Steve rinsed out the rest of the bottles and put them in the recycling bin, returning to the living room to find everyone but Danny ready to head out the door. They were gone before he could find a way to suggest maybe one of them drive Danny home, leaving Steve alone in the living room with Danny, who was clearly in no condition to drive. 

Which had never been an issue before—Danny was well-acquainted with Steve’s couch. Which is probably why no one even thought to offer a lift—though Kono’s reasons were more suspect. 

“What’s that face?” Danny asked. 

He’d moved from the chair to the couch, was slumped into it like he’d carved out his own spot there, made just to fit him. “What face?” Steve asked.

Danny swirled a finger around in the air in Steve’s direction. “That face.”

“This is my normal, everyday face.”

Danny’s frown was so deep it looked like his eyebrows were trying to connect. “No.”

“You’re drunk,” Steve said, shaking his head as he started folding up the extra chairs. 

“Maybe a little, but that’s still a face.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve picked up the chairs and hurried off to the garage before Danny could say anything else about his face.

Steve put the chairs in their spot in the corner and leaned against the shelves beside them, closing his eyes. The garage held so many memories, from working on the Marquis, both with his dad and more recently, to finding the toolbox, to his first meeting with Danny.

He’d almost rather be facing angry Detective Williams with a gun than the Danny currently poured onto his couch. 

This was stupid. He was a Navy SEAL. He didn’t hide in garages from challenges. He’d march back in there and if Danny asked hard questions, Steve would find a way to answer them. He owed that to Danny, owed it to their…friendship? Relationship?

Was there a word to define them? Surely sharing a liver, if nothing else, made it more than friendship. But Steve had never really known how to define them, even before that. Might never find the right words. 

Fuck it. Who needed labels anyway? They were who they were. And hiding in the garage wasn’t helping anything. 

Steve took a deep breath and went back into the house, going straight to the living room, prepared to face whatever Danny had to throw at him, only to find Danny sound asleep on the couch. 

Of course.

He looked so still, more so than other people, given how animated he was when he was awake. Steve stared for a moment too long before pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and covering Danny with it carefully. 

“Night, Danno,” he whispered, before turning off the light and heading up to his room. 

***


	10. Chapter 10

“So,” Bridget said, as she and Danny walked to the Tapa Bar, “it was nice of Steve to go take care of work and let you stay.”

“Yeah, well, it’s getting close to Christmas—he must be worried about his gift.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it was.” 

Danny frowned at her, but she gave him her angelic face, the one he’d learned by the age of seven was bullshit. “I think he really just wanted an excuse to drive my car without me telling him what he’s doing wrong.” 

“Doesn’t he have his own car?” she asked as they sat down at a table. 

“He has a giant truck that could mow down a Jeep, but why drive that when he can drive mine instead, right?” 

He saw her look, grateful for the interruption as the waitress came to take their order, but Bridget was still giving him that look when they were done. “What?” he said finally.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Have you at least managed to keep him from disappearing since you got back?”

“No disappearing acts that I know of since my last trip, no.”

“See? He was just acting out because you left.”

Considering Danny couldn’t leave the idiot alone for two seconds without him getting into some kind of trouble, she might have a point, but since she was clearly getting the wrong idea from that point, he wasn’t going to concede it. “More like he’s a small child in need of constant adult supervision. Anyway,” Danny said, leaning back in his chair, “enough about me. What’s going on with you?”

***

When they were done with drinks, Danny watched Bridget go, frowning at the way Spencer had his hand on Bridget’s back. There was something far too familiar about the way he did that, as if he had some sort of proprietary right to her or something. 

Maybe he could suggest Spencer attend a seminar on inappropriate workplace touching. 

Not that it wasn’t normal for close colleagues to touch each other—he and Steve practically had each other’s fingerprints on various body parts by the end of some days. But Spencer shouldn’t be touching Danny’s very married sister like that. It was just wrong. 

_Then why isn’t it wrong that you and Steve are always doing things like that?_

He wasn’t sure when the inner asshole voice in his brain had started sounding like his sister, but he didn’t like that, either. He and Steve weren’t married to other people. Or anyone. Besides, it wasn’t the same anyway. He and Grace had had the same lack of personal space back in Newark, and there hadn’t been anything between them.

Well, not really, at any rate. Though maybe that wasn’t the best comparison. 

Not that it even needed a comparison. Bridget was married, Spencer shouldn’t be touching her like that. End of story.

Danny paid for the drinks and headed for the taxi stand. 

***

Steve looked up from his desk to see Danny walking into the office. “Hey.”

“I think you might be right,” Danny said.

“Well, that's very good news,” Steve said, because anytime Danny admitted Steve was right should encouraged. “Care to elaborate?”

“Okay. The guy--the goofy kid on the paddleboard with my sister? I think something might be going on.”

Of course he does. “Are you kidding me? How do you know?”

“Well, I don't know for sure. But I was sitting there, and I was having drinks with her, and this guy comes in, and they had this very strange vibe. And then, he called her ‘Bridge.’ which made me want to throw up.”

Right, because nicknames are a dead giveaway. But Steve let him go on.

“Then they go to leave together, and he, as they walked away, put his hand right on her back.”

He stopped, and Steve prodded him on. “Then what?”

“That's it.”

“He put his hand on her back?”

“Yeah.”

By those standards he and Danny had been at it for years. Which…never mind. “Okay,” Steve said. “Just for me....” Steve got up and rounded the desk. “He put his hand on her back,” he said, laying a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “and you thought, that's it. They're on.” 

“No. That's how you put your hand on my back. This is this,” Danny said, clapping Steve on the back, “and this is how he touched her. Feel the difference?”

Danny’s hand was warm and gentle on Steve’s back, and yeah, he felt the difference. “Yeah. It's very different.” 

It just wasn’t the first time either of them had even done that, but Steve was reluctant to point that out.

Danny’s hand lingered, fingers pressing into Steve’s skin lightly, and Steve pushed that thought out of his head as he heard the door open behind them. 

Kono’s smirk matched her tone as she said, “I can come back.”

Danny’s hand fell as they turned. “No,” Steve said, because she wasn’t interrupting. There would never be anything for her to interrupt. “No.”

He ignored her smirk as she started to fill them in, wondering if he was in for another talk later like the one on Thanksgiving. Not that it mattered. She could say whatever she wanted. It wouldn’t make any difference.

***

Danny glanced at Steve several times before he couldn’t take it anymore. “Just do me a favor and shut up, okay? Just shut up.”

“What, am I breathing too loud?”

As if he didn’t know. “No, I can hear you thinking,” Danny said. “You are thinking that I am overreacting. That I'm being ridiculous, about this thing with Bridget. Okay? I know these things, all right? Just like I knew that Grace had a boyfriend, I know this. Maybe nothing has happened yet with Bridget specifically, and Spencer, but it's on its way to happening. Okay? Trust me. I know. I am her brother.”

“You're also a cop, and gut feelings can be wrong. You know that, too.” 

Yeah, that’s what Danny kept telling himself about certain other gut feelings as he fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the text. “Oh, look at this! What a coincidence. She's got to cancel dinner, now. Because a work thing has come up. We're gonna have drinks now, instead.”

“Danny, nothing's happening! Her whole thing is a work thing.”

“I know it's a work thing, and it called S-P-E-N-C-E-R.“

Steve just sighed and looked out the window. Danny rubbed his hand on his pants, the itch that had started there when he’d shown Steve the difference in how someone puts their hand on your back still bothering him. 

That itch was nothing. Maybe he was allergic to Steve’s detergent. Maybe he was allergic to Steve. 

That would explain a lot, actually.

***

Steve glanced at Danny as they ended their call with Kono. That face clearly had nothing to do with the case. “What's the matter with you?” Steve asked. “You're still thinking about your sister?”

“You remember I told you about Grace Tilwell, right?”

Which was not what Steve had been expecting. “Yeah, your partner from Jersey who got murdered? Yeah. What about her?”

“Well, uh, about a year into my marriage with Rachel, we started having some problems. Work was heavy, bills were piling up--loans, all kinds of stuff. Grace was the only person that I was talking to at the time. Only person I confided in. Only person I laughed with, did everything with. Every day I was with her, right?”

Which sounded…well, pretty much exactly like the two of them. Hands on backs and all. 

“One day,” Danny continued, “I come to work, and I notice I'm looking at her a little differently. Know what I mean?”

Oh yeah, Steve knew that look. He knew exactly what it looked like and how it felt on his own face. “I do.”

“Point is this, okay? The way that I saw Bridget looking at Spencer, that whole thing? I recognized it. Why? Because I went through the same thing with my partner.”

It was such a loaded story, with so many interpretations, that Steve didn’t know where to start, except with reassuring Danny, however he meant it. “I had no idea, Danny. I'm sorry. All right?”

“Well, it wasn't the best moment of my life, okay?” Danny said. “Nothing happened. You know, Rachel said that she wanted to have kids, and I realized what I would be destroying if I went forward with this, so I stopped it before it even started. Once again, the point is I see what Bridget is going through, because I went through it myself.”

“Okay.”

“’Okay,’ what?”

“Okay. Okay. You got to talk to her.”

Danny went back to staring out the window, leaving Steve with a million questions and not a single word to ask any of them.

***

It was easy enough to decide to talk to Bridget, but now that Danny was sitting across from her, he wasn’t sure how to start. “So, how was the seminar with Spencer? It was good? You guys have fun or what?”

“You want to talk about family deductibles? I mean, if that's interesting to you, we can talk about family deductibles. Or we can discuss these jumbo lump crab cakes.”

“He, um, he seems like a nice guy, Spencer, right?”

Yeah, he is. So you want to split them?

He didn’t give a damn about crab cakes. “Sure. Uh, what about, uh, what about...Is he married?”

Bridget was looking at him funny. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. You?” She gave him a confused look, but he recognized that one. She knew what he was getting at now. “I'm just asking a question, that's all.”

“Asking what?” Ridiculous. She knew. Why make him say it? “Asking what, Danny? He's a colleague.”

“I know.”

“He's just a colleague. “

No. He’s not. “I know what he is,” Danny said.

“Okay.” He could see her anger now. “You have something to say, just say it.”

Fine. If that was what it took. “Okay, I'll say it. Whatever's going on, you need to stop it now.”

“Oh, you think you know what's going on?”

“I do, yeah.”

“You know that every morning I wake up and I watch the ceiling fan? And I just feel the air on my face, and I love that moment. Because then the dog needs to be let out, and I need to make breakfast for the kids, and get them off to school. And then when school's done, I got to race back. I have to make dinner, make sure their homework's done, walk the dog, and then it just starts all over again. I'm doing it all by myself. Ted's never around. I mean, our parents are never in town. And if they are in town, they need something. Guess who's handling all that. Yeah, me. Because you guys left years ago. I have no support. I have no one to turn to.”

He couldn’t feel guilty for deserting her—she had to know that. She had to know he had to follow his daughter. He wouldn’t feel bad about that, even if it felt a little like a punch to the gut.

“Honestly,” she continued, “I feel like, every day I get closer to completely disappearing. Until one day, I walk into work, and someone actually sees me.”

It didn’t matter if she was a little kid or a grown woman, her tears still made him want to make it all okay. Which was what he was trying to do, even if it meant making her cry. 

“Spencer's a friend. Okay?” she said. “He's there for me.”

He got that. He’d been there, done that, almost made the same mistake. What did she want from him? “Okay. I don't understand. Do you want my blessing or...?”

“For what? Nothing's even happened.”

“Nothing's happened _yet._ ”

“God knows you're a saint, Danny, but if you could just be a human being for one second. Can you even hear me? I am lonely. I am so unhappy. What am I supposed to do?”

Just because he knew the symptoms didn’t mean he had the cure. “I don't know. Go try therapy, get separated for a little while.”

“Well, I'm sorry, unlike you, I can't just walk away from my children.”

Oh, no, that was low. He hadn’t walked away from his kids. He’d walked away from everything he knew for them. “Uh-huh. You know my children can look me in the eye and they can know that I never lied.”

Apparently that was the last straw, as she got up and walked away without another word.

***

Steve kept a close eye on Danny as the drove to the Hilton. He was quiet, which, despite Steve’s complaints about Danny’s talking, was not actually good thing. 

As they pulled up in front of the hotel, Steve asked, “What are you gonna say to her?”

“I don't know.”

Which maybe wasn’t the best way to go into this, but sometimes you just had to go with your gut. “You want me to pick you up?”

“No. In fact, once again, I could've just driven myself.”

He could have, but Steve would have worried. And Danny wouldn’t have had the support. But then, all that never needed to be said with them. “Yeah, I know.”

“All right. Thank you, though.”

The thanks was unexpected, and it took Steve a second to say, “Just call me if you want me to pick you up.”

“I don't want you to pick me up.”

Danny got out of the car and Steve watched until he was out of sight before pulling off. 

Maybe he’d stop nearby and get a drink before heading home, just in case Danny changed his mind.

***

Bridget was about as thrilled to see Danny as he’d expected.

“What do you want, Danny?”

He really should have planned what to say. But since he hadn’t….

“I don't want…I don't want anything. I just want you to know that I love you very much. And I obviously do not have all the answers. If I did, I'd probably still be with Rachel.”

Which might not have been for the best, but. “I'm far, very far, from perfect,” Danny said. “But Bridget, if you do this, you cannot take it back. Maybe it'd make you happy for a little bit, but, at the end of the day, it's just…it's just gonna make things worse. And all that stuff about you being alone is not true because I am here for you always. Always, you call me, I pick up the phone. No matter what. Okay? Forever.” She was smiling a little, so that couldn’t be all bad, right? “Hmm?”

“Thank you,” she said.

“That's it,” Danny said. “That's all I got.”

“Do you want to come in?”

Well he sure as hell didn’t want to call Steve for a ride—he’d never hear the end of it. “No, I don't want to interrupt anything,” he teased. “I mean, you're all dressed up.”

“Get in here, you jerk.”

“Thanks.” He walked in, catching sight of the cheeseburger on the table. “Wait a minute. This is what you flaked on me, for a cheeseburger?”

“Yeah, well, plans changed.”

Which meant she’d figured out he was right before he came over. Clearly she was smarter than her big brother on some things. 

Then he saw the TV screen. “Oh! You're watching Smokey and the Bandit?”

“Yeah.”

“Without me? We watched this six thousand times when we were kids.”

“I know, I still love it.”

“Burned out the VHS tape. I'm in.”

He settled in on the bed to watch as she said, “You know what? 

“What?”

“Steve kind of reminds me of the Bandit.”

Given her huge crush on Burt Reynolds as a kid, thanks to this movie, that was more than a little unsettling. “Why? Because he's reckless and arrogant?”

She didn’t answer, but a moment later she said, “Remember when you tried to grow that mustache?”

He’d tried to forget it, but it was burned into his memory. “Yeah, don't tell Steve about that, please.” Or let him find pictures. Ever.

“Okay.”

“I'm serious.” It was bad enough hearing about it every holiday back in Jersey.

“10-4, good buddy.”

They watched a few more lines before Bridget said, “You know, I might have some pictures of that mustache.” 

“If you’re looking for a way to get in good with Steve, that would work. Of course, I’d kill you, so….”

She laughed. “I don’t know, he is kind of cute. And mom did say he’s a catch.”

“What, you want his number?” 

She put both hands up in protest. “No, thank you. I learned that lesson with John Carmichael in the tenth grade.”

Danny frowned. “I don’t see how you trying to steal your sister’s boyfriend has anything to do with this.”

Bridget gave him that raised eyebrow she’d perfected from their mother. “Really? You don’t?” 

“Nope. I do not see it at all.” 

He absolutely saw what she was saying, but since it didn’t apply, he was going to play dumb and force her hand. Unlike him, however, she apparently didn’t feel the need to lecture. “So,” she said, “how’s Amber?”

“ _Melissa_ is fine, thank you.”

“Right, sorry, I forget her name changed.” She forgot nothing, she was just being a pain in his ass. “So am I going to get to meet her while I’m here?” 

“She’s working.”

That eyebrow raise again. “So’s Steve.”

“Yes, but his job is a little more flexible.” 

He gave her another of their mom’s looks, the one that dared her to challenge him, and after a moment, she turned her attention back to the TV. 

***

Steve parked the truck in the Hilton’s garage, hurrying over to the Hau Tree to find Danny and Bridget already at a table. “Sorry,” he said, as he sat down, “there was an accident on the way over. Took forever.”

“As long as you didn’t cause it,” Danny said.

“Of course I didn’t—I am a very good driver,” Steve said.

Danny gave him a look. “You’re a what now?”

“Shoot,” Bridget said, looking in her bag. “I forgot my phone.” She pulled out her room key. “Hey, Danny, would you mind going back up to my room to get it for me?”

Danny looked at her, then at Steve. “You can’t go get it yourself?”

Steve had seen Grace use the same wide-eyed look on Danny to the same effect. “Please?”

“Okay.” With one more look between the two of them, Danny snatched the key out of her hand and jogged towards the elevators. 

“So, Steve, tell me about Amber?”

It took Steve a second. “You mean Melissa?”

“Yeah, sorry.” 

Steve shrugged. “She’s…nice. She and Danny seem…good together?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

Because he wasn’t. He just wasn’t sure if that was because he saw what he wanted to see. Or didn’t want to see—he was still having trouble with that one himself. “It’s not really my place to talk about Danny’s girlfriend.” 

“Okay, let’s talk about yours.”

“I don’t really have one.”

She frowned. “I thought you were seeing someone.”

“No, I mean, well, yeah, I’m kind of dating someone, but I don’t know that I’d—why are we talking about this?”

He’d also seen that innocent face on Grace, and he knew better than to believe it—even if it worked on him every time anyway. “Just making small talk.”

No, there was nothing small about her talk, or random, either. He just wasn’t sure if he was getting the right idea from it. “Oh, like nice weather we’re having, right?”

“Yeah, but then it’s Hawaii. It’s always nice weather, isn’t it?”

“It rains a lot.” 

“Yeah, but even the rain is nice.”

He nodded. “It can be.” 

“Look,” she said, and he tensed up, waiting for what came next. “Danny’s a smart guy. And he knows a lot about himself and where he’s been, and he’s good at applying it to other people.” She took a deep breath. “But he’s not so good at applying it to his own actions and avoiding the same mistakes.”

Was he supposed to think that Melissa was a mistake? Or that Steve was? Or was he reading too much into all of this. “I think Danny’s a big boy and can take care of himself.” 

“Oh he can take care of himself,” she said. “A little too well. He doesn’t like to get hurt. So he’s really good at making sure people can’t do it.”

Steve knew a little something about that, but he wasn’t about to admit it to her. “There’s something to be said for self-preservation.”

Bridget laughed. “Danny says you wouldn’t know self-preservation if it punched you in the face.” 

“On the job, maybe.” Steve shrugged. “Off the job…Danny and I have a lot in common.”

So much for not admitting it. Something about his answer seemed to make her happy, though. “That’s good to know.” 

Danny came jogging back, dropping Bridget’s phone and key on the table beside her. “What did I miss?” he asked, as he sat down.

Bridget shook her head. “Nothing. We were just talking about mustaches.” 

“I will kill you and Steve will help me hide the body.”

Steve held up both hands. “I am totally not involved in this.” At Danny’s look, Steve put his hands down. “I would, unfortunately, be obligated to help him hide the body,” he said. 

Bridget laughed again. “I would expect nothing less.” 

***


	11. Chapter 11

Steve stopped in the doorway to Danny’s office, leaning against the door jamb, more for the support than any attempt to look cool. It had been a long two days, chasing down a bank robber who’d killed a ten-year-old in his getaway, and none of them had had any sleep. 

The asshole was in jail now, where Steve hoped he rotted, and they were free to go home and sleep. Danny had apparently forgotten the home part, since he was passed out on the couch in his office. It reminded Steve of Thanksgiving, and all the thoughts and feelings he’d stuffed away that he didn’t need popping back out when he hadn’t had enough sleep to handle it. 

Especially not with Danny looking so warm and inviting on the couch.

Steve pushed off the door jamb, his body heavy, and crossed over to the couch. “Hey,” he said softly, mussing Danny’s hair just because he could. “Time to go home.”

Danny grumbled something Steve couldn’t make out, his eyes blinking open. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Either that, or you finally took Grace up on the mannequin challenge.”

“Never.” Danny sat up, running a hand over his hair, smoothing out the damage Steve had done. 

The move irritated Steve for some reason, but he chalked it up to exhaustion. “Come on,” Steve said, his hand refusing to move from Danny’s shoulder for a moment. “I’ll drive you home.”

That Danny didn’t put up a token argument was a sign how tired he really was. He followed Steve out to the car and dropped into the passenger seat without another word. By the time they were on the street, Danny was asleep again, leaning back into the corner between the seat and the window. 

Steve divided his attention between the roads—practically deserted at this hour—and Danny. The lights dancing over his face gave the appearance of his usual animation, strange and eerie without his non-stop talking. 

There were more lines on his face now than when they’d first met, more visible than usual after so many hours awake, even in the fleeting light. It only served to make him more attractive somehow, and Steve could picture him twenty years from now, the lines permanent, doing nothing to detract from his looks as he watched his grandkids play. 

Want hit like a punch to Steve’s stomach, surprising him more with the strength of how much he wanted to be there for that than the fact that he wanted to at all. To be there watching with Danny, to be able to reach out and touch—

A horn blared and Steve swerved suddenly, jerking the car back between the yellow lines. He hadn’t really gone into the other lane enough to be in danger, but the horn and jerking of the car woke Danny. “If I wake up dead,” Danny said, settling back into the corner, “I’m gonna kill you.”

For someone who bitched about Steve trying to kill him in the car all the time, the trust implied by Danny’s quick return to sleep was…something. Touching, sure, but also a reminder that Danny rarely said what he meant. He was like a dog that snapped every time you reached for his belly even though he really wanted you to scratch it all along. 

It made it difficult to know what Danny really thought without asking him point blank and hoping he didn’t deflect. Not that Steve was exactly forthcoming, but given all the things he’d learned about Danny in the last few years, Steve had definitely been the more honest and open of the two of them. 

He’d learned to look for the signs with Danny, but he’d had no luck lately deciding what the signs meant, at least when it came to Steve. To them. Kono had said Danny would figure out Steve’s feelings, if he hadn’t already. And then there had been Bridget’s cryptic comments about Danny and self-preservation. 

The biggest piece of the puzzle had been Danny’s story about his partner, Grace. Most of the story applied just as well to Steve as it had to Grace. What was Danny’s point? Had he just been making his case about Bridget? Or was he making a bigger point, something about him and Steve?

Or was Steve just losing his mind?

Not that those things were mutually exclusive, Steve thought, as he pulled into Danny’s drive. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Steve said, his voice quiet, even in the still of the car, as he shook Danny’s shoulder gently.

Danny stirred, giving Steve a sleepy smile that made Steve drop his hand so he didn’t grab Danny and never let go. “Thanks,” Danny said, that gravely midnight voice doing nothing to help Steve’s issues. “I thought Sleeping Beauty’s prince woke her up with a kiss, though.” 

Was that a hint? Or just more banter? “Sorry,” Steve said, pausing to clear his throat, “I’m not a prince.” 

“Just as well,” Danny said, as he unbuckled the seat belt. “I look ridiculous in a dress.” 

“That sounds like you know it from experience.”

Danny shrugged. “I’ll never tell.”

Which was the bitch of it—he wouldn’t, not unless he was ready. “Go to bed, Danno,” Steve said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” Danny said again, climbing out of the car with some effort and closing the door behind him. Steve watched until Danny was safely inside before reversing the car and taking off for home.

***

Steve searched through his wardrobe, spending far more time than he usually would in choosing an outfit for Chin’s birthday party. Lynn couldn’t make it, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else he had to impress. And yet he’d discarded three shirts before settling on one and had yet to decide which pair of pants to wear. 

His phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket to see Danny’s face smirking up at him before Steve answered.

“Just making sure you didn’t forget to pick up the cake for Chin’s party.”

Like Steve would forget? “Of course not.”

“Good. I’m on my way to get Grace and Charlie, just thought I’d check.” 

“Cake secured,” Steve said, knowing how much it would bug Danny. “Operation Birthday is safe.” 

“Oh God,” Danny said, “remind me never to put you in charge of cakes again. Or anything you can call ‘operation’ something.”

Steve laughed. “Go pick up your kids. I’ll see you at the party.”

“Don’t forget the cake.”

“Goodbye, Daniel.”

Steve hung up, tossing the phone on the bed as he contemplated two different pairs of pants. He picked the tighter of the two and changed into them, checking them in the mirror before deciding to keep them and pulling on his shirt.

***

He was in the truck on the way to the party before he finally admitted to himself why he’d been so picky about his outfit, even though he’d known all along.

Danny.

It was a pointless effort—Danny felt whatever he felt, or didn’t feel, and Steve’s clothing wasn’t going to make a damn bit of difference. It wasn’t like the right pair of pants was suddenly going to have Danny confessing his need to rip them off. 

If Steve wanted to know, he was going to have to man up and ask. 

He was a fucking Navy SEAL. He could find the nerve to ask, he knew he could. It wasn’t as if Danny would treat him any differently, Steve was sure of that. Even if Danny wasn’t interested, their relationship was solid enough to survive any awkwardness once Danny knew. 

And if Danny was interested…

Well, Steve didn’t want to go there just yet. Danny was taking the kids back to Rachel’s in the morning. Maybe they could get something to eat tomorrow night and Steve would bring it up. 

And maybe Steve wouldn’t throw up at the thought of that conversation by the time he got around to bringing it up tomorrow. 

***

By the time Steve handed off the cake to Kono, safely out of Chin’s sight, and got to the party itself, Danny was already at a table with Grace and Charlie. Steve returned their hugs, stealing glances at Danny while the kids chattered. 

Chin’s birthday video distracted them at last. Steve turned his head away from Danny with some difficulty, but as he finally focused on the video, he felt Danny nudge him in the leg. Steve looked down at him, eyebrow raised. 

“What’s with the face?” Danny asked.

“Face?”

“Really?”

Steve sighed. “It’s not important right now,” Steve said. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Dinner at my place, if we don’t get a case?”

Danny’s brow furrowed as he studied Steve, but after a moment he nodded. “Yeah, sure.” 

Steve pasted on a smile and went over to the bar for a drink, but he could feel Danny’s gaze on him all the way. 

***

All the way to Mexico, Steve kept a close eye on Chin, but he also watched Danny and Lou as well. Both of them knew only too well what Chin was going through, and then some. Their jobs were hard, but Five-0’s elite status making it more visible than a lot of cops made their jobs hard for family as well.

There was something to be said for having no one to lose.

Steve watched Danny talking to Lou about their kids, the whole issue of whether or not Grace was good enough for Will apparently forgotten between them. Danny, who’d been so upset at the idea that Grace had a boyfriend, and then so ready to fight so she didn’t lose him. Danny, who was just about the most perfect father that Steve could imagine. 

Danny, the one person Steve couldn’t bear to lose.

Worse, he couldn’t bear for Grace and Charlie to lose their dad. It was why he stuck so close to Danny whenever he could on the job, why he always called out for Danny when things went south, and why he’d fire Danny in a heartbeat if he thought it would get him to go be a nice, safe accountant or something.

He wouldn’t—Danny was born to be a cop. The same traits that made him a good father were what made him such a great cop. And Steve knew the only thing he could do was do everything possible to make sure Danny went home every night. 

Those chances went down if Steve made Danny a target. Granted, they had some of the same enemies, and Danny had a few of his own, but Steve’s were the kinds that owned countries and had their own weapons arsenal and armies. 

Since the moment Danny had asked about Operation Strawberry Fields when they were going through the files Hector Ruiz had amassed on SEALS and their operations, Steve had known his name might be out there attached to operations. It made him a bigger target, and it had taken him no time at all to come to terms with it.

He’d signed on to go up against the world’s biggest threats, and whether he died from a bullet in the middle of one of those fights, or in a retaliatory bullet years later, the result was the same. He’d agreed to that risk.

Danny hadn’t. His kids hadn’t. No one around them had. Their team might be at a little more risk because of Steve’s days as a SEAL, but nothing they couldn’t handle together, and the risk was minimal. But if Steve and Danny actually pursued a relationship, Danny might as well paint giant targets all over himself.

“Hey.”

Steve looked up to see Danny standing by his seat. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?” Danny asked, sliding into the aisle seat beside Steve.

Steve nodded. “Why?”

“You look a little…I don’t know.” 

“Oh, well that’s clear.” 

Danny gave him a small smile. “Well, I know the situation is serious, but even for that you have the mega serious face on. What gives?”

“Nothing.” Steve shook his head. “Just going over the possibilities in my head. We have to be ready for anything.”

“We always are.”

No, they weren’t. They hadn’t been ready when Hesse had jumped Chin, or when Jenna had betrayed them, or when Grace had been kidnapped, or Samantha had been kidnapped by Ian Wright. Steve had a long list of examples of how they never seemed to see attacks on their own team coming. “It’s Sarah. We have to be extra prepared.”

“We’ll be ready,” Danny said. “Sorry about dinner, though. What was it you wanted to talk about?” 

Steve shook his head again. “Nothing important. Don’t worry about it.” 

He couldn’t quite meet Danny’s eyes, and he knew Danny wasn’t buying it, but it didn’t matter. Sarah’s kidnapping was about as rude a wakeup call as he could get, but it was a wakeup call nonetheless. 

Steve wasn’t selfish enough to risk Danny’s life, no matter what Steve might want. 

***


	12. Chapter 12

Rescuing Chin turned out to be comfortingly anti-climactic. 

Not that Danny was complaining. He’d take the easy wins where he could. Though the fact that he considered that easy spoke to the Herculean tasks they faced on most days. 

Once they got back to the house, they all went to pack, eager to get out of Mexico before anyone else decided they might want revenge. The unexpected addition of Sarah to the trip home made it that much better, the smile on Chin’s face as he talked to her on the plane making it easier to ignore the cuts and bruises on his face. 

It was Steve who had most of Danny’s attention though. He’d been quiet since they’d returned with Chin, not so much that most would notice the difference between this and his normal behavior, but Danny noticed. He always noticed. Which was part of his problem. 

They’d somehow managed a comfortable charter plane—Danny had long ago stopped asking just how many people owed Steve favors—which was nice, except it had allowed Steve to sprawl out over two chairs and keep everyone else from sitting close to him. 

Though it also meant Danny could wander over and bug him without a flight attendant harassing him. 

He got up, checking to see Adam and Kono sleeping, arm in arm, in a nearby pair of chairs. Grover looked to be asleep as well, and Chin was engrossed in listening to Sarah tell him everything that had happened. 

Danny stopped in front of the seats Steve was sprawling over, standing there for a moment while Steve pretended to sleep. Like he could fool Danny? 

Danny nudged Steve’s feet over until there was enough space in the second chair for Danny to sit down. Steve sighed, opening his eyes just enough to peek through the lids. “I was sleeping.”

“No, you weren’t, even though you should be, because you got less sleep than practically everyone here and you could use some.”

“If I could use some, why did you bother me?” 

“Because you weren’t sleeping.” 

Steve frowned, making him look like a sinister cartoon figure, brow furrowed deeply over those slitted eyes. “That makes no sense.” 

“Who said I have to make sense?” Danny asked. “So, are we on for dinner tomorrow, after we both get some sleep?”

The change in Steve’s posture was almost impossible to see, but Danny noticed how he tensed up, just a little. “Dinner?”

“Yeah, that dinner we were supposed to have yesterday.” Danny thought back. “Or the day before—whatever, after Chin’s party.”

Steve shrugged. “Sure.”

“What was it you wanted to talk about anyway?” 

Okay, even Jerry would notice how much Steve tensed up that time. “Talk about?”

“Yeah, remember, the reason for dinner?”

Steve shrugged. “Don’t remember. Must not’ve been important.”

He was lying. Danny was an expert lie detector when it came to kids, perps and Steve McGarrett, and he was lying. But Danny also knew he wouldn’t get anything out of Steve with a direct attack. “Okay,” he said, pushing his chair back and slouching into it. “If you remember,” he said, closing his eyes, “let me know.”

Steve said nothing else, but he was close enough that Danny could feel the tension staying there in every muscle.

***  
Danny’s phone buzzed as he put down his suitcase. He fished his phone out of his pocket as he closed the hotel room door, checking the screen to find a text from Kono.

_Be glad you got out of town – we caught a case._

Danny glanced up to see Melissa starting to unpack. She looked happy. And he didn’t want to spoil that. 

But he also knew what kind of trouble Steve could get into while Danny wasn’t there to stop him.

Danny pulled up Steve’s last text and typed in a question. _Heard we caught a case. Need me to come back?_

The answer was quick. _No. Stay there. Have fun._

Of course. Steve probably wouldn’t tell him even if he did want him to come back. Ever since that flight back from Mexico had taken off Steve had been…weird. He’d pretended like that invitation to dinner had been nothing, when Danny knew better. He knew Steve. But Steve seemed to have forgotten that fact.

He knew he’d get it out of Steve eventually, but who the hell knew when eventually would be and how many ways Steve could get almost killed before that happened?

“Hey.” 

He looked up to see Melissa had finished unpacking. “Sorry, what?”

She frowned. “You’re not going to have to go back already, are you? We just got here.”

Danny shook his head, even as part of him wanted to lie that he did. “Nope, they got a case, but I’m good.”

He was good. He had to be.

***

Danny dropped onto the bed, waiting for Melissa to be ready to go down to dinner. He checked his phone—he’d had three texts from Kono about the case, and he was almost sorry for missing Lou pretending to be a used car salesman—but none from Steve. 

Steve only avoided texting when he was avoiding Danny altogether.

 _Did Lou stuff you in the back of one of the cars?_ Danny texted Steve. 

A moment later he got a reply. _Funny. I could totally take him._

Danny didn’t doubt it for a minute. _Case going okay?_

_Fine. Shouldn’t you be having fun with your girlfriend?_

_Waiting. Why do women take so long getting ready?_

_You’re asking me to figure out women?_

He had a point. _You’re not going to go off to some foreign country and get kidnapped or something right?_

_Really Daniel?_

_Like that’s really outside the realm of possibility, Steven? Think about it._

This answer took a few seconds longer. _You might have a point._

Melissa came out of the bathroom, looking stunning. “Ready?” she asked. 

“One second.” Danny turned back to the phone. _Behave. Don’t get kidnapped, shot, stabbed, drowned or dead._

_You have an overactive imagination._

_You have a ridiculous injury history._

_Go to dinner._

_Fine, I will._

“Danny, the reservation is at eight.” 

“Right, sorry.” He got up, pocketing his phone. “Let’s go.” 

*** 

He tried not to check his phone too much at dinner, but he couldn’t help sneaking glances when he thought Melissa wasn’t looking. Another text from Kono, asking if Danny had known an HPD patrolman. He said no, why, but she hadn’t answered yet, which had him worried. There were a limited number of reasons she’d be asking, and none of them were good. 

“Danny.” 

He looked up at Melissa. “Sorry.” 

“Has Steve managed to flee the country or end up in a hospital yet?” 

Danny shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s still early.” 

“I don’t think he really needs to go that far, honestly.” 

Something about her tone seemed odd. “What?” 

“Nothing,” she said, taking a drink of her wine. “Forget it. What are you having for dinner?” 

He started to push, then realized he didn’t really want to know. “No idea.” 

“Maybe they could put the menu on your phone, then you might look at it.” 

He took the hint, put his phone in his pocket, and picked up the menu. 

*** 


	13. Chapter 13

Steve heard the noise a second before the house shook. He’d had enough experience in volatile areas to know it was an explosion, somewhere from seven to ten miles away, he’d guess. Farther, if it was a bigger bomb than he was guessing. 

His cell phone rang, Danny’s face on the screen, and Steve picked it up quickly as he headed for the door. “You okay?” Steve said.

“Yeah, you?”

“Obviously,” Steve said, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head saying Danny would only have called so close to an explosion if he was impacted. “Just because there was an explosion doesn’t mean I was involved.”

“Well, you are a bomb magnet, so I figure I’m not exactly crazy to think it might happen near you.” 

Steve could see smoke from his front lawn, rising from an orange glow, the size of which had to mean it had taken out an entire building. “I think it was closer to HQ.” 

“You think it was the uranium?”

“Probably not.” The words were more hopeful than certain, but Steve had to assume the uranium was for more than just a nighttime explosion in an area that wasn’t very busy at night. 

The call waiting beeped. Steve glanced at the phone to see the Governor’s name. “Governor’s calling,” he told Danny. “Call you back.”

The governor had no information one way or the other on the uranium, but she told him DHS was already en route and the scene was being secured, but that she wanted Five-0 on it as soon as DHS gave the all clear. 

He promised to be ready and hit the end call button before calling Danny. “DHS is on the way there. We’re holding back until they’re done.” 

“Fine by me,” Danny said. 

“Grace and Charlie okay?”

“Yeah. Grace was in her room, but she came out right after you hung up. She’s with Charlie in the dining room, distracting him.”

Steve looked at the smoke and fire in the distance. “Did they see it?”

“No, just me.” 

“Might want to keep them inside for a while and away from the TV.”

Danny laughed. “You know Grace has the internet on her phone, right? She didn’t see or hear anything—she came out here because of Twitter.”

“They really need better parental locks on those things.”

“No, they just need smarter parents to figure out how the actual locks work.”

“We could talk to Toast….”

Danny laughed again. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I draw the line at hacking my daughter’s phone to block access to news.”

“I’m just saying….”

“Get some rest, Steven,” Danny said softly, his tone doing things to Steve that he’d been trying to ignore. “I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be an early, busy day.”

“Yeah. Night, Danno.”

“Night.”

Steve hung up the phone, staring at Danny’s picture for a second before shoving the phone in his pocket.

***

“You were right,” Steve said, as he turned onto Kalakaua. 

He glanced over at Danny in the passenger seat, who raised both eyebrows in surprise. “I’m always right,” he said, ignoring Steve’s muttered, ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ to ask, “But what about this time?”

“It was a long day.” 

“It was. What is it about big life events and bombs, anyway?” Danny asked, glancing over his shoulder in the back seat. 

Steve checked the mirror, but Grace was miles away, the tinny sound of music from her headphones only just audible as she stared at her phone. “How do you mean?”

“Well, I almost missed Grace’s Father/Daughter dance—not to mention both of us missing the rest of our lives—thanks to a bomb. And then we almost missed Kono’s wedding—and again, the rest of our lives—thanks to a bomb. And now, on Max’s last day, we just finished getting cleaned up from chasing down the person who caused an explosion—which, yes, I acknowledge was not caused by a bomb, but it was a bomb that brought us to the scene, one, I might add, that we’re still hunting, and therefore,” he took a quick breath and checked over his shoulder again, “we stand a good chance of another bomb in our future.” 

“To be fair, our job does kind of invite bombs into our lives at times,” Steve said.

“Yes, but still…big days seem to do more than invite them. They kind of invite them with all expenses paid and a red carpet.”

Steve huffed a soft laugh, checking the wing mirror to avoid looking at Danny. Kono’s wedding had been overshadowed by her interrupted honeymoon, but it had been a nice family celebration, nonetheless. Catherine being back had been nice, at the time, though when Steve had been dancing with her, he’d really wanted to be dancing with Danny, not that he’d really thought much about the impulse at the time.

He’d acted on it, though, and without anyone figuring out his real feelings, including him. Well, maybe Kono—how long she’d been holding onto that knowledge he had no idea. But in hindsight, he should have seen back then what he knew now. 

“So does that mean if there’s music tonight you’re gonna dance with me again?”

“That depends.” Danny’s look could only be described as coy, but Steve had no idea if he was just playing along with a joke, or if he meant it. “Are you going to Neanderthal me into it again?”

“That settles it. If there’s music, you’re dancing with me.”

Danny shook his head, but he was smiling as he turned to look out the window at the darkness. 

***

The party had just started when they arrived. Kamekona was being generous with the drinks—Steve wondered as he made his rounds if he’d get a bill at some point, since he’d suggested it. Not that it mattered. Nights like this were worth it, he realized, as he took a seat and looked around at his family.

Danny bumped Steve’s arm as he sat down next to Steve. “What’s with the look?” 

Steve shrugged, not bothering to play the usual game. “I’m happy,” he said. 

“Oh, so that’s what that looks like on your face? Weird.” 

Danny’s tone was as warm and teasing as his smile, and Steve turned towards Danny a little, leaning into him. Flippa sat down on the makeshift stage, guitar in hand, and started playing. Steve sipped at his beer, mindful of his new tolerance levels, enjoying the atmosphere, and especially enjoying the warmth and smell of Danny so close. 

Steve saw Max swaying, almost dancing, and thought about making good on his threat to get Danny into his arms for a dance. He was conscious of Kono sitting close by, though, and he didn’t need another lecture, not tonight, not when everything was so nice. 

It was enough to have Danny sitting there, his arm pressed against Steve’s.

Steve turned his head, leaning in just a little towards Danny’s ear. “You don’t have to dance with me tonight,” he said. The smile he got in return was worth the loss of the chance. Steve glanced over his shoulder, but Kono didn’t seem to have heard. 

He didn’t need a dance. He had Danny beside him, that was enough.

***

Steve glanced in the rearview mirror, smiling as he saw Grace asleep, her phone forgotten in her lap as she slumped against the side of the car. Danny was awake in the passenger seat, but only just, eyes slipping closed, looking so much like Grace in some ways that it tugged at Steve’s heart. 

The quiet of the car, the dimly lit cockpit cocooned against the darkness, the three of them in a little bubble…it’s what a family should feel like, and the ache that hit him at that revelation was surprising. It had been as close to a perfect night as he could have, and this was like the perfect ending. But something was missing.

Want coiled in his gut—no, want was too mild a word. This was need, suddenly loud and clawing at him. He swallowed it down, looking at Danny, still half dozing, and Grace, sound asleep, wondering how they couldn’t hear the noise. 

Steve swallowed hard, forcing the feeling back down, taking slow, even breaths until that noise disappeared, leaving only the lingering ache of that need that wouldn’t go away. Had been there for some time now, he realized. 

For a cop he was incredibly blind at times, apparently. It had taken him long enough to even see that he wanted Danny, but apparently even longer to realize how much he needed him. Needed this. The thought of losing it, something he’d always half-resigned himself to, knowing the day would come, was like standing there watching that red dot on Danny’s chest from the bomb again. Like seeing Danny’s car disappear off the GPS when Rick Peterson was terrorizing him. 

Danny’s house was just ahead, looking like a beacon of hope. If he could just get through his goodnights, he could go home and put all these feelings back in their proper boxes—preferably padlocked and hidden somewhere deep for a while. 

Steve pulled into the driveway, letting the engine idle and staring out the window over Danny’s shoulder as Danny stretched and told Grace to wake up. 

Danny got out, letting Grace out before leaning back into the car. “Pick me up in the morning?” he said.

“Yeah.” Maybe by then Steve would have a handle on this shit. “Night.”

“Night.” 

He made sure Danny and Grace got into the house and managed not to peel out of the driveway. He didn’t even break the speed limit until he was out of sight—and sound—of the house.

Then he stepped on the gas. 

He made it home in no time, not stopping until he was in the house, the door safely locked behind him, standing in the middle of the living room, not sure what to do next. 

Beer. This needed beer.

He grabbed a bottle from the fridge and came back into the living room, not bothering to turn on the lights as he dropped onto the couch. A long drink later, he let his brain have full rein again.

The mental images he’d been trying to confine to sleep, better than any porn he’d ever seen, involving Danny in a variety of situations, flooded in. Mixed in with those, though, were the quieter, family moments, ones they shared all the time, that Steve hadn’t realized he’d needed like air and water until now. 

Had he known on some level, all those years ago in the garage when Danny had still been pointing a gun at him? Had he known when he’d made the impulsive decision, possibly the only one like it in his life to that point, to all but conscript Danny into Five-0? At what point had his subconscious realized Danny was necessary and latched on, finding every method he could to keep Danny in his life.

If Danny had moved to Vegas, would Steve have found an excuse to follow? 

He took another long drink, still unable to find the starting point. Then again, what difference did it make? The starting point was long gone, and the end was too much to think about. And still, Mexico loomed like a giant alarm clock, ready to spoil every dream in Steve’s head.

Then again, Chin had brought Sarah back from Mexico, despite everything. Chin, who’d lost Malia to their job, and yet still found it in himself to date a cop. 

Then there was Kono, who’d almost lost Adam more than once to his old life, and seemed happy with him still. Who’d given Steve one lecture already on the need to talk to Danny. 

Maybe some risks were worth taking. Maybe he should rethink things. 

An unpleasant ache took up residence next to the need inside Steve, one he recognized from years of it saving his life—fear. He’d always believed that a healthy amount of fear was a good thing, as long as you didn’t let it rule you. As long as you didn’t let it kill you with inaction.

He took another drink. 

This wasn’t a decision to make tonight, not a decision to be considered when the memory of the night, of Danny and family, and not with all the emotions swirling around him like a tornado. 

But it was one he should consider, and soon. 

***


	14. Chapter 14

“Should you be driving?” Danny asked.

Steve glanced at him. “You want to take over the wheel now?” 

“At a hundred miles an hour through the busy streets of Honolulu?” Danny asked. “No. No, thank you.”

Steve checked the speedometer. Forty-two. Nice to see hyperbole was still Danny’s default setting. “Okay, then, considering you got in the passenger seat and let me drive off, and you’re not demanding I stop the car, I’m going to assume that yes, I should be driving.”

Danny huffed. “Like demanding you stop the car would matter?”

Steve rolled his eyes, then a moment later, shifted them to get a look at Danny. He was looking somewhat relaxed for someone who claimed to be in constant fear for his life when Steve was behind the wheel. But then Danny was good at hiding his emotions. 

“That light was red,” Danny said, as Steve went under it.

Infuriatingly good at hiding his emotions and pretending like something else was wrong all along. “It was yellow.”

“Orange at best.” 

Steve took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow exhalation. “It was yellow.”

“Okay, but that stop sign you just barely stopped at three blocks ago? That was definitely red.” 

Steve stopped at an actual red light and studied Danny for a moment. Whatever was going on had nothing to do with Steve’s driving. Danny’s ranting about that was auto-pilot at best today. The odds of Danny actually telling him what was really wrong were maybe 50/50. And Steve would never figure it out if he didn’t. 

“You know I can’t read your mind, right?” Steve said.

Danny frowned. “I thought I was being pretty clear exactly what was on it.” 

No, he was exposing the top layer, the superficial one that never had real substance behind it. And it drove Steve crazy that he couldn’t tell what Danny was thinking deep down half the time—even though half the time was an improvement over the first couple of years they’d known each other. 

Oh they could read each other just fine when they were on a case. They’d been teased about telepathy, about being an old married couple, and about knowing each other just a little too well to believe. 

But when it came to feelings? Danny was, more often than not, a closed book to Steve. 

Which was doing nothing to help Steve’s need to figure out if he should actually, maybe, someday try to mention any feelings he might be having for Danny, since he had no way of knowing how Danny felt. 

“Okay,” Danny said, “that light was definitely red.”

Then again, maybe he’d just chuck Danny off on the side of the road and forget about it.

***

Danny watched the scenery go by, palm trees and sun and blue skies, far too much of all of those to be natural. This place was like the opposite of all that was natural. Like how they let U.S. citizens set up their own country. 

Having the Feds come in and do their jobs for them never set well with him, no matter what the situation. But this one was a little worse somehow.

"Still," Steve said. "I still can't read your mind."

A fact that Danny was really happy about, given where his mind went sometimes when Steve was around. "Excuse me?" 

"You get this look on your face, like I'm supposed to know what you're thinking, but I don't."

Nice to know Danny could still keep a few of his secrets. "Oh. You know, it's funny,” Danny said, deciding to lighten the mood before Steve started picking at those secrets Danny was trying so hard to hide. “There's two things on this Earth that I'm very grateful for. One is that you cannot read my mind. The second is this seat belt right here."

"Only two? Just two? Not the birth of your daughter or getting to know your beautiful little boy. Just me not having a super power and your seat belt, that's it?"

Well, those others went without saying, but, no, Danny wasn’t getting sucked into that personal conversation stuff right now. Light. That was the way to keep things. "Right now? Yeah."

"Well, be glad you can't read mine."

Oh, if only he could. "No, no, I can read yours."

"Oh, you can read mine?" 

"Oh yeah." For the most part, anyway. And he was working on the rest of the time. 

"Yeah? What am I thinking?"

"You're hungry,” Danny said, because that was always a good bet with Steve. “You're very hungry. You're thinking about wings, you're wondering if I have my wallet in my pocket.” Also a good bet with Steve. “You're also probably thinking about that new issue of _Guns & Ammo_ that you got in the mail this morning. Other than that, it's pretty echo-y in there, I'm guessing.”

"When I met you, you were funny. I actually thought you were funny."

He still thought Danny was funny, Danny could tell. "You didn't say I was wrong." 

"Okay, Daniel, if I could read your mind...."

Okay, light didn’t deflect. Time to try the truth, and do his best to keep it to work. "If you could read my mind, you would know that I was thinking that Lou was right. We should've just rushed in there this morning and the Feds wouldn't be doing our job for us."

"You're wrong. We needed to show them respect for their land. It was the only way we could avoid people getting hurt."

"I don't know,” Danny said. “I don't know. It seems to me now a lot more people are gonna get hurt and it's all over a fugitive. And Bumpy and his group, they are the same people who took over the palace a couple of years ago. Anybody else you would label as stone-cold criminals. I don't see what the difference is."

"The difference is it was their palace first."

Translation: the difference was it’s a Hawaiian thing, and the haole wouldn’t understand. 

Kono’s call saved Danny from having to respond, but he couldn’t help thinking about Steve’s reason as they drove to the storage facility. Steve’s soft spot for the culture and people of Hawaii was one of the things Danny admired about him. That he could care so deeply about a culture he adopted, one that still often treated him as an outsider if he didn’t know the people well, spoke volumes about Steve as a person.

Danny knew that instinctively about him, just as he knew how Steve would react in almost any given situation, and what almost every mannerism and tone and face meant. He knew Steve better than anyone outside of his own family.

Hell, apparently he knew Steve better than he’d known Matt.

And yet there was that one look Steve had at times, the one Danny really needed to document in the McGarrett translation dictionary he’d been building in his head. He couldn’t figure the look out, or the tone that often went with it, and it bugged him. Not just because he didn’t know it, but because he felt like there was something important behind it. Something he was missing. 

“So,” Steve asked, eyes carefully on the road, “ _do_ you have your wallet?”

“Maybe.”

“Good.” Steve gave him that look, laced with a grin. “Wings later?”

God help him, he might not know what that look was, but he had no resistance to it. “Sure.”

***


	15. Chapter 15

Prisoner transport had never been one of Steve’s favorite things.

Aside from the obvious lack of action, being cooped up in any sort of transport with someone who’s done unspeakable things made his trigger finger itch. He would never be judge, jury and executioner, but it doesn’t mean sometimes he didn’t think it would be easier if the guilty party didn’t make it to court.

Being trapped in a plane, staring at said guilty party, didn’t help. Though at least he only had to stare at Alana, since her father had been carted off by the feds, hopefully never to be seen again.

“Hey.” 

Steve glanced over as Chin sat down beside him. “What’s up?”

“You know, I could get used to these private jets,” Chin said. “Think the governor would get us one?”

He knew what Chin was doing, and ninety-nine percent of the time it would work—be welcome, even. But Steve wasn’t in the mood to be distracted from his thoughts. “I’ll ask,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “If I’m not dead from exhaustion by the time we land.”

Chin was nothing if not perceptive. “Get some sleep,” he said, pushing out of the seat. “There’s enough of us watching her.” He nodded at Alana. “She’s not going anywhere on a plane anyway.”

Which was part of the problem, but Steve just nodded. Chin moved up a row, leaving Steve alone and making himself a buffer if anyone else came back and tried to bother him. Part of Steve was grateful, even as another part of him was annoyed for some reason.

He didn’t want to think about that, though. He sunk down into the seat, arms folded over his chest, and let his eyes drift almost closed, until they were slits, so he could just see Alana locked into her chair, staring straight ahead, looking defiant and not at all sorry.

He didn’t sleep.

***

When they landed, Steve resisted the urge to take Alana to the rendition room and lock her away and forget her for a few days. He handed her over to HPD, said a quick goodbye to Chin, and jumped in his truck. 

The idea of home loomed large and dark, like a whirlpool in the middle of the ocean at midnight threatening to suck him in. He turned the car down a different street, refusing to even think until he’d shut down the engine in front of Danny’s house. 

He should just go home. Danny didn’t ask for this mood. Danny hadn’t asked for Steve and his oversized baggage, either, though, and he’d taken it on. Lightened it a little, even.

Most days, anyway.

Steve got out of the truck and jogged up to the door. Grace and Charlie were with Rachel, and Melissa was on the mainland visiting family for a few days, so Danny was likely to be alone. Steve didn’t knock, didn’t even think about it, just walked right in like he was home. 

Danny twisted around from his spot on the couch, eyebrows raised as he saw Steve. “Hey,“ Danny said, as he switched off the TV. “Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. You just get back?”

Steve shut the door, moving around to stand beside the couch, but no further as he nodded. “HPD has Alana in custody.” He’d already texted Danny that Alana’s father was off with the feds.

“Good.” Danny’s eyes narrowed, the difference just barely noticeable in the dim light of one lamp. “You look sorry you didn’t have a chance to shoot her.”

Trust Danny to get right to the exact point when Steve needed him to. “She was supposed to uphold the law,” Steve said, pacing over to the wall and back. “And she killed a woman, framed someone else, ruined two lives just to protect that…that….” 

He didn’t have the word he wanted, couldn’t think of one to describe someone who’d perpetrated some of the worst horrors humans could contemplate doing to each other, who’d enjoyed it, if the stories were anything to go by. 

And then he’d escaped any consequences. 

That he was never going to be free again was small comfort now, so many years later.

Danny got up, putting himself in Steve’s path, forcing him to stop inches away from Danny. “But you got them both,” Danny said softly.

“Yeah, sure, now.” Steve managed to meet Danny’s eyes, seeing the understanding there, the concern. The urge to run warred with the urge to grab Danny and never let him go for a moment until Steve forced his thoughts back to the issue at hand. “That…Nazi,” because even calling him a man was too good, “lived. He had a full life—a wife, a kid, everything. Thousands and thousands of men never got to go home, never got to meet their kids and grandkids.”

Steve swallowed, the muscles in his throat tight. “My own grandfather never even knew his son, let alone his grandchildren, and this asshole got a full life.”

“He’ll die in prison,” Danny said, still in that soft tone that threatened Steve’s anger, made it want to go back into hiding. 

Steve wasn’t ready for that yet. “Tell that to his victims. Oh, wait,” Steve said, hands in the air, “you can’t, because they’re nothing but dust.” 

“And you can’t do anything about that,” Danny said, and that voice…Steve’s anger was going away whether he wanted it to or not, being replaced by things that Steve had been pushing away for a long time, things stronger than anger, but so much more dangerous. “You did what you could do, brought him to justice. Kept them both from hurting anyone else.”

Steve took a deep breath, letting it out. It shook just a little through his lungs and throat, leaving behind an ache in his chest. Though the ache might have more to do with the look in Danny’s eyes that Steve couldn’t stop staring at, the one he’d seen a few times and couldn’t place.

He needed to now. Right now. Because it was doing things that Steve couldn’t handle, couldn’t deal with, not after the last couple of days.

He shouldn’t have come here. He should’ve gone home and swam about a million miles or had a bottle of whiskey or something. Anything but this. 

Steve’s lips were parched, and he licked at them, trying to say goodbye, to get away before he did something stupid. Something he couldn’t take back. 

The way Danny’s eyes flickered down to Steve’s mouth at the movement, though, the change in Danny’s breathing just after, though, stopped Steve short. He studied that look again with the new behavior, the context.

Oh.

Fuck.

Steve licked at his lips again, just to see Danny’s reaction. Same one. Stronger, even. 

Only one more test to make sure. Steve leaned in slowly, giving Danny time to back away, slow enough even to give them both plausible deniability. Danny stood his ground, his eyes on Steve’s mouth, the intensity in them setting off a fire low in Steve’s guts.

He could feel Danny’s breath on his lips, Danny’s eyes out of focus now, but the smell of him both comforting and exciting all at once.

Loud, tinny music made them both jump. Danny blinked, taking a step back as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Grace’s picture was just visible for a second before Danny hit the answer button and put the phone to his ear. 

Steve didn’t hear what Danny said to Grace over the rushing in his own ears. Danny was watching him, even as he talked, but the words weren’t registering, any more than that expression on Danny’s face that Steve couldn’t place.

Steve pointed at the door, mouthing, “See you tomorrow,” before he all but ran out of the house, not stopping until he was in the truck. It wasn’t until he was home, safely inside, the door locked behind him, that he took a deep breath again. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

If there was a list of a thousand stupid things he could’ve done, that would have been nine hundred and ninety-nine of them. He’d have to make sure Danny understood without having to say a word that Steve knew it had been stupid. That it wouldn’t happen again, that Steve knew Danny was off limits. 

Of course, he’d also have to pretend that Danny hadn’t been leaning in for the kiss. 

Easy enough—Steve had been bred for suppression from an early age, and the Navy had honed that skill. His skill was world-class. 

Danny would think he’d imagined the whole thing by the end of the week.

***


	16. Chapter 16

_”Steve…”_

_Danny barely recognized his own voice, hoarse with need, as his fingers dug into the sheets beside him. Steve’s mouth was like magic, his tongue had clearly been gifted with special powers that made Danny arch up as Steve licked a trail down the middle of Danny’s abdomen. Lower and lower, teasing its way slowly to where Danny wanted it. Needed it. Almost there--_

Danny woke with a start, blinking around, confused about the daylight when the all-too-real dream had been in the dead of night. He felt a warm body behind him and stiffened before a slim, female hand slid over his chest, and Melissa settled in against his back, still sound asleep.

Right. Melissa. He closed his eyes, grounding himself in the present and pushing the remnants of the dream off to the corners of his mind where he hoped they’d stay.

This was all Steve’s fault. Danny had been fine in full-on denial most of the time, happy even. But no. Steve Fucking McGarrett had to go and blow Danny’s calm all to hell. And to make matters worse, Danny hadn’t even gotten to see what kissing him would really be like out of it. No, of course not—all the guilt, none of the actual fun. 

Even worse than that, Danny knew what that look meant now, the one he’d been trying to figure out for months. And he’d never be able to ignore it, not now. No, every time Steve got it now, Danny would be right back in that moment when they’d almost kissed. Back in the moment of the kiss that never happened. 

Fucking Steve McGarrett.

Which was another thing he really didn’t need to be thinking. Ever. 

How could he just dangle all that in front of Danny and then run away? And then act like it never happened. Not that part of Danny wasn’t happy for that, but the part of him that had been leaning in just as much as Steve was kind of pissed off.

Of course it was for the best to pretend it never happened. They were too close already, that’s one of the many reasons Danny had avoided even considering anything between them—at least when he was awake. That had been before he’d known there might be a chance, but still, it was madness. Absolutely the worst idea in the history of ideas.

Steve was right to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t happen. And the whole thing would fade in time, become a distant memory that Danny wasn’t losing sleep over. He’d focus on Melissa—who he cared about deeply—and forget all about it eventually.

Melissa stirred, placing a kiss against the back of Danny’s neck before he rolled onto his back to smile at her. “Morning,” she said, her smile slow and sweet. 

“Morning.”

“What time is it?” 

Danny checked the clock over his shoulder. “Almost eight.” 

Her nose wrinkle was adorable. Everything about her was adorable. He was lucky. “I have to get going,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. “What do you say to dinner tonight?” 

“Sounds good.”

“Hey, maybe you should invite Steve and Lynn. You’re right, the four of us really should hang out.”

Over Danny’s dead body. “I think Steve said something about plans tonight. But we’ll have to do something soon.” 

“Okay.” She gave him another kiss. “Gotta go.” 

He watched as she got out of bed. She was beautiful. Everything a man could want. And the polar opposite of Steve McGarrett.

If Danny kept telling himself that enough, maybe it would help.

*** 

Melissa was so excited when she showed Danny the suite that it was impossible not to be excited along with her. Not that the suite itself wasn’t something to be excited about. It was amazing, and he didn’t even want to think about how much she’d probably spent on it. 

She deserved his whole attention, and he was going to make sure she got it. The whole time they were at the Hilton, he would not even think about Steve McGarrett, let alone mention his name.

“Here,” Melissa said, opening a Longboard and handing it to him. “Check out the view on the balcony. I’m going to change for the beach.” 

He took a long drink and made his way out to the balcony. She was right; the view was spectacular. Though he’d seen it before, with the only key to his handcuffs disappearing into it at Steve’s hand. 

No. He was not thinking about Steve. 

Danny heard people talking in the next room and hoped that the walls were thick if the couple next door was that loud. The last thing he needed was—

No. Seriously, no. Clearly he’d lost his mind and was hallucinating, because there was no way Steve could be standing on the balcony next door. 

Steve looked his way, and Danny searched for anything to say that wasn’t going to be embarrassing or revealing or insane. “Why?” he said finally.

Steve looked about as surprised and not thrilled as Danny felt. “Okay,” Steve said finally, “something tells me this is not an accident.” 

_Hey, maybe you should invite Steve and Lynn. You’re right, the four of us really should hang out._ Melissa’s words came back to Danny. Clearly he should’ve said no. “Melissa!” 

Steve called back over his shoulder for Lynn, but Lynn came out onto Danny’s balcony with Melissa. Danny was also as thrilled to learn about the adjoining rooms as Steve sounded. 

“You know how you’re always talking about how we should all hang out?” Melissa said. 

“Uh-huh.” _Because I can’t keep my big mouth shut, apparently._

“Lynn and I decided to make it happen.”

“Surprise,” Lynn added.

At least Steve hadn’t been in on it—after that near kiss, that would’ve been a little too much for Danny to handle. But Steve’s response was very clear on the lack of enthusiasm, at least to Danny. The girls seemed not to notice, though, as they went inside to change clothes. 

Danny waited until they were gone and the sliding doors firmly closed before even trying to figure out what to say. Before he could, though, Steve started in.

“I know what you did,” Steve said, repeating himself for emphasis. Like Danny had anything to do with this? Like he wouldn’t rather be in hell? “Yeah, you,” Steve said, as if reading Danny’s mind. “You told Melissa we needed to hang out as a group, didn’t you?”

Of course, but it’s not like he meant it. “Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. That is what you say to your girlfriend when you don’t want her to think you’re an anti-social wierdo.” 

“You are an anti-social weirdo.”

To be fair, Danny had been very social with Steve until recently. “That’s the whole point, I don’t want her thinking that.” 

“Okay, no, smart move. Hide your true self from your girlfriend. I’m sure that’s going to be great for your relationship.”

Was that some kind of hint at that kiss that had almost happened? Was Steve making a dig? That’s all Danny needed, for Steve to be making comments like that and making Melissa wonder what the fuck was going on. 

Fuck. “This is a disaster,” Danny said.

“Are you crazy? Look at us. We’ve got baller suites, killer views, we’re drinking beer at ten in the morning. It’s awesome.”

Trust Steve to shut off every emotional aspect of the whole situation—which, really, just underscored why it was a good thing that that kiss never happened. “First of all,” Danny said, “don’t say ‘baller’ ever again in your life.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me, that’s why. Don’t say it. That’s number one. Number two, I am supposed to be…romantic this weekend. With her,” he said, then realized how that sounded. “You’re aware of that, right?” 

“So what’s the problem?”

Seriously, his emotional level was on par with an infant. Like Danny was supposed to be kissing up to Melissa when he kept thinking about not kissing Steve? Of course, clearly that wasn’t an issue for Steve, so Danny needed a better explanation. Fast. “The problem is that you are here, and I don’t need you judging me. I don’t need your judgy eyes, your judgy face, your judgy everything. I don’t need that while I’m trying to be romantic, you understand?”

“First of all,” Steve said, “I’m very aware of your issues.” Oh, so it was Danny’s issues now, was it? Steve had no issues with that almost kiss? “Of your intimacy issues. And the last thing I would want to do is make you feel uncomfortable.”

Bullshit. If that was true, he wouldn’t be making more comments that were clearly digs about that kiss that didn’t happen. “Uh-huh.” 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Steve said. “If at any stage, my presence makes you feel uncomfortable, makes you feel like you can’t quite get to the romantic, intimate place you need to get to, you say the word, I’m out.” 

The word. But no, Danny couldn’t be that obvious, not when Steve clearly had no trouble pretending like the kiss that didn’t happen actually never happened. 

“Uh-huh,” Danny said, glad of the space between the two balconies that kept him from jumping across and assaulting Steve. “Like a safe word?” Because that was a thought he needed in conjunction with Steve. Not. 

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“Ah. I say the word, whatever it is, and you, uh…”

“I leave.”

If only that were the case every day. “What’s the safe word then?” 

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. Chicken salad.”

Was he trying to sabotage everything? Was that really the reason he was here? Because that was the most ridiculous safe word ever. “Chicken salad?”

“Yeah.”

“Chicken salad?” Really? “Okay. Well, yeah, I’ll just figure out a way to casually slide ‘chicken salad’ into a normal human sentence. Organically.”

“Weave it in,” Steve said.

Jerk. “Yeah.”

He was saved from Danny’s annoyance by Steve’s phone. Danny perked up at the idea of a case—the perfect solution. They could get out of this whole fiasco before it actually became a fiasco. 

Steve, who would jump at the chance to have a case over anything like this, got out of it. Of course. Because he was deliberately trying to drive Danny insane. When Steve hung up, Danny looked at him until Steve said, “What?”

“You turned down the case?”

“Yeah.” Steve took a drink. “Look, the girls clearly want to do this and they’ve planned it, so we should go with it. He turned towards the doors. “I’ll see you on the beach,” he said before going inside.

Danny looked over the balcony for a moment before deciding that the fall might not kill him and he’d just have to suffer Steve’s faces if he tried jumping. He finished off his beer and went inside to find another before he had to go face the rest of the day. 

***

Steve sorted through his clothes with a little more force than was strictly necessary. He’d been looking forward to this little non-trip trip as a chance to focus on anything and anyone who wasn’t Danny Williams. This was going to be Steve’s chance to get past nearly kissing Danny, to help him move on with his life so they could be normal again. 

Instead he was going to have Danny there the whole time. 

_“I am supposed to be…romantic this weekend. With her,”_ Danny had said. 

Like Steve didn’t know that? He was supposed to be the same with Lynn. But there Danny would be, the reminder of all the things Steve had decided he shouldn’t go after. 

Then again, maybe this was just what Stave’s subconscious needed to catch up to his conscious decision to pretend this thing between him and Danny—because for all that Danny seemed to be acting a little like the wronged party here, it had definitely gone both ways—didn’t exist. 

Nothing like watching the person you like making out with someone else to douse that flame before it even got a chance to take off. 

So he’d pay close attention and his subconscious would get the idea. And he’d make sure to show Lynn what a romantic he could be, and maybe Danny would see that one near kiss had been an aberration. Then everything would go back to normal.

The laughter in the back of his head absolutely did not sound like Danny. 

***

It wasn’t bad enough Steve had to be insanely hot in his tank top. No, he had to get all shirtless and get in the water, and encourage Danny to go with him, just to cool off. Like he had any chance of that around Steve right now? 

Though at least in the water, Steve was partly covered up. When he’d ripped of his shirt, Danny couldn’t help but check the scars from the surgery, an automatic reaction from months of making sure he was healing right, but this time it reminded Danny of how close he’d come to losing Steve. If they’d been a little later, if Danny hadn’t had the right blood type….

A strong wave almost knocked Danny over, Steve’s hand steadying him before he could fall over. “You okay there, Danno?”

“Fine,” Danny said, doing everything he could not to pull away from the warmth of Steve’s hand. “As steady as I was when we beat you out there.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, as he dropped his hand. “Yeah, okay. Get it out of your system.”

He started for the shore, Danny falling into step beside him. “It’s probably good that we got into the water. Good to cool off, right.”

“Very nice,” Steve agreed.

“Yeah, after a loss like that, it’s good to bring the body temperature down with cool water, right?”

“You’re not gonna let me live that one down, are you?”

“No chance.” Because if he focused on that, maybe he could ignore all the other shit that was threatening to drive him crazy and make it through this without too much damage. 

He kept up the mocking until he went to look for his sunglasses, finding them nowhere around their stuff. He looked around to find the kid who’d hit Melissa with the Frisbee, blatantly wearing Danny’s sunglasses. 

Oh hell no. He might have to put up with Steve and all that baggage, but he sure as hell didn’t have to be mocked by a snot nosed brat.

***

It wasn’t like Steve hadn’t done yoga before. He had excellent balance. He just couldn’t focus. God only knew what kind of trouble Danny was getting up to. When he got something into his head, it was impossible to talk him out of it, and without Steve there to stop him, who knew what would happen?

He answered Lynn’s teasing, one part of his mind still distracted wondering where Danny had gone. Was he off pouting somewhere, or had he found that kid? 

“At least your boyfriend is here,” Melissa said.

Which just brought him back to Danny—not that he’d really been that far off Danny to begin with. He tried to hold the pose a little longer, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Nor, apparently, was his core. 

When he fell over, he gave up trying to pretend, just like he gave up yoga. “I’m gonna go check on Danny.” 

***

Danny watched as the juvenile delinquents had lunch. Maybe they’d try to take off without paying and he could actually arrest them. Then he’d prove those were really his sunglasses, and his leaving the spa would be totally justified.

Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have stalked out of the spa. As Steve pointed out, the girls had paid a lot for this. And Melissa deserved better.

But then, she also deserved better than a guy who might be slightly obsessed with his best friend. 

Not that this current activity was in any way a distraction from any of that. Petty theft was a gateway crime, and Danny needed to nip it in the bud. Today a pair of sunglasses, tomorrow a nuclear warhead. It was a very slippery slope. 

Kind of like almost kissing someone. You almost kiss them one day, and before you know it, you’re in bed with them, doing all kinds of things that Danny shouldn’t be thinking about. Because he was there with Melissa. Well, not at the moment, sure, but they were there together to have an amazing Valentine’s Day, and he was not going to let Steve ruin it for her.

Which was, of course, when he saw Steve, who had apparently left his girlfriend doing yoga to come find Danny. Which meant nothing. Nothing at all.

“What are you doing?” The kid was going to recognize him. “Sit down, please.” 

Steve, of course, had the audacity to ask Danny what he was doing. And then completely ignore Danny’s perfectly valid reasoning.

“Something you should know, I think it’s important I tell you, you have completely separated from reality.”

Oh, really? He’d separated from reality? Last he checked, laws were real. And this kid broke them. Besides, if Danny were to separate from reality, it would be because of Steve and his crazy biceps and those tattoos, especially the one with the scar that reminded Danny of seeing Steve get riddled with bullets. 

But, no. Back to the kid. “It’s not about the money,” Danny said, in response to Steve’s whole ‘Only twenty dollars’ thing. “It’s about the principle.” 

“You mean pettiness.” 

Oh please. He was never petty. 

The kids left the table. Danny gave them a minute as Steve said, “I think we should talk about this—“

“Just shut up, please.” Because Danny didn’t want to talk about anything. Certainly not with Steve, not now, especially if any conversation might lead to a conversation about that almost kiss. 

He went over to the table and got the kid’s room number. Of course, Steve McGarrett, Mr. Crazy, didn’t want to have any part of it. Danny left anyway, wondering if Steve would come along, just like he had, eventually, after Danny had left the spa. 

He hadn’t made it ten feet when Steve jumped up to follow.

*** 

Steve watched as Danny tried to apologize and make it up to Melissa that he’d run out on half their Valentine’s Day. This was the part Steve needed to pay close attention to, the way to show his subconscious that Danny was off limits. Nothing got that message across like watching a romantic declaration to someone else.

Except Danny couldn’t get through it. 

“You know, I can feel you,” Danny said, turning a glare on Steve. “It’s like you’re on my face, it’s like you’re judgy. You’re judging me,” Danny put his hand up beside his face, “and it’s like right here.” 

That wouldn’t help. He needed to see Danny and Melissa happy with his own eyes to get out of this thing. So if Danny couldn’t do it, Steve would do it for him. 

“What Danny is trying to say,” Steve said, “is that we wanted to show you guys how much we appreciate you both. So here’s to you two.” He raised a glass. “Thank you.” He drank, complimenting Danny on the champagne to make it look even better. 

“This has been fun,” Melissa said.

“I agree,” Steve said. “It’s been great, right? I think, actually, Melissa, we should do it again. What do you say?” Given the way Steve couldn’t help but notice the smell and warmth of Danny beside him, he had a feeling his brain could use some more reminders that Danny and Melissa were a happy couple. Or at least a couple. 

The girls looked agreeable. Steve slid his arm around Danny, because they had to look as comfortable with each other as always, right? Or something might seem off. “Let’s do it again, and Danny and I,” Steve got momentarily distracted as his thumb brushed against Danny’s ear, Steve’s voice trailing a little as he finished, “will, uh…we can organize it next time.”

If the girls thought that was odd, they didn’t give anything away. Danny didn’t move away, but after a moment, he said, “Chicken salad.” 

What, now? They hadn’t even eaten. Besides, Steve realized, as he glanced down at Danny’s lap, it wasn’t like Danny was going to be getting up from the table anytime soon. Not with the bulge in his lap that Steve was certain hadn’t been there a minute ago. Not until Steve had put his arm around Danny. 

Then again, maybe he was seeing things. 

“Chicken salad,” Danny said, more forcefully, when Steve didn’t remove his arm.

Or maybe not.

***


	17. Chapter 17

“I think she wants something from us.” 

Steve’s assessment of Gray’s motives rang true, but Danny had already figured out what Gray wanted. “I think she wants something from you, specifically. I think she misses you.” 

“Yeah, that’s funny,” Steve said.

Of course he did, because he refused to take anything that threatened his safety seriously. Wasn’t that the whole reason Danny had been ignoring that thing between them? “I’m not joking,” Danny said. “Think about it. This woman likes to play games, all right? She likes a challenge. She needs an adversary—she’s still down one from the last time—you beat her by surviving. So maybe she wants a rematch.”

“You’re saying that Gray turned herself in because she was bored?” Chin asked.

“Wait a minute,” Steve said. “That wouldn’t be the craziest thing she’s ever done.”

“So the lady wants a rematch,” Lou said. “All right. What’s the game gonna be this time?”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” Steve said.

Kono gave them the missing key to at least part of that question with the answer to the blood on Gray’s hands—Alicia Brown. 

So Gray wasn’t after one adversary. She was after two. Fantastic. Because Danny needed more nightmares about how Steve had been stabbed and almost drowned while still recovering from a liver transplant, where even inhaling too much water could’ve killed him from pneumonia. Of course, that nightmare had to share time with North Korea, Jalalabad, the plane crash, and about a million other ways his imagination could come up with for Steve to die, so why not add to it by bringing this sick psycho’s mind games back to sunny Honolulu?

“Danny?”

Danny blinked up at Steve, who’d clearly called his name more than once. “Sorry, what?” 

“I’m going out to Alicia’s house to see what I can find. You coming?” 

Hell yes, he started to say, then he got a look at the clock. “I can’t, I have Grace’s teacher meeting.” Rescheduling wasn’t possible, and Grace came first, no matter how much Danny wanted to be there to keep Steve from doing things like jumping off tall buildings and dying. 

“Okay.” Steve clapped Danny on the shoulder. “Check in when you’re done. Lou and I will go out to Alicia’s.” 

“Be careful. You don’t know what kind of sick bastard she might have recruited to be there waiting on you.”

“We’ll be fine. Be sure to tell Grace’s teacher that Grace is awesome.”

“Everyone knows that.”

Steve smiled, as his hand slid off Danny’s shoulder as he walked away. The warmth of that hand lingered, though. Danny wondered, not for the first time, if that might be the last memory he ever had of Steve McGarrett.

***

Steve was helping Alicia clean up after dinner when his phone rang. He checked the screen to see Danny’s face before accepting the call. 

“Hey,” he said, going into the living room, “how was Grace’s teacher.” 

“Fine. Grace is brilliant, etc. Chin caught me up—how’s everything up there?”

Steve glanced around the room. “So far, so good. No sick bastards around.”

“Other than you?” 

“Funny,” Steve said with a soft laugh. 

“I’m just saying, you have an unhealthy affinity for jumping off things. That’s not well, my friend.” 

Right, because Danny wasn’t two steps behind him, even as he yelled at Steve about it all the way. “Listen, I’m going to stay here tonight to make sure nobody tries to get to her.” 

There was a long pause before Danny said, his tone odd, “You need back up?” 

“Nah, I’ll be on the couch. I can handle anyone who comes through the door.”

“Okay.” The weird tone was gone. “Call us if you need us.” 

“Will do. Night, Danno.”

“Night.”

Steve hung up the phone and went back to helping Alicia. She brought him a pillow and blanket, and he settled in on the couch, the lights out, the absence of the waves that usually lulled him to sleep distracting. 

His dinner with Alicia had been nice. People who understood the worst parts of what they did for a living were rare, people who’d been damaged by it were, thankfully, even rarer. It was only natural that he’d compare that to hanging out with Danny. The two of them had been through more than any two people should, definitely more than most could survive. 

He just prayed that if their luck ran out, he was the one who didn’t make it. Grace and Charlie needed their father. 

And on the list of things Steve didn’t want to think about surviving, Danny’s death was pretty high.

***

Danny stood there listening to Steve find an excuse for every valid, sane idea and comment the team had about Alicia. Seriously, this guy took identifying with people and then letting them walk all over them to a new level.

“This is who Gray is,” Steve said. “She manipulates people.”

“Yeah, bad people,” Dann shot back. “Crazy people.” 

“And Alicia is neither of those things,” Steve said quickly. 

Bad, maybe not. Crazy, though…losing your kid could make you do a lot of things. Kyle Kane came to mind. 

“Can I talk to you for one second, please?” Danny asked, already heading for the Steve’s office. He waited until they were inside to say, “I know that you and Alicia have history. You go back, you almost died together, I get it.” And he did—he’d been through near-death and way-too-near-death experiences with Steve too many times not to. 

“Oh, and now you think that prevents me from being objective about her, right?” 

Yes, exactly, because Danny knew Steve too well. But putting it that way wouldn’t be productive. “No, no. I just think that there are certain possibilities that we have to consider.”

“Like what?”

“Like this woman, Alicia, she just snapped. Okay? She lost her daughter. You think you ever get over something like that? You don’t. Not to mention she’s been profiling psychopaths her entire career. She’s trying to get into their heads. She’s trying to think like they think, right? There is a very thin line, you know?”

“Danny, please. I was with her last night. All right? We had dinner, we talked a lot. She’s not crazy.” 

‘With her.’ He ignored the part of his brain that hated the way Steve phrased that. “Okay, forget what I just said. You don’t have to be crazy to want revenge.”

“You think this is about revenge?”

That he hadn’t even considered it showed just how compromised his thinking was on this case. “It could be. Maybe that’s she’s been doing, looking for Gray. That’s why you haven’t been able to get in touch with her for the last four months.”

“Okay, so what you’re saying is you think Alicia actually did attack Gray like Gray said she did yesterday.” 

No, logic and sanity said that, Danny was just giving voice to it. “It would make sense, wouldn’t it? I mean, it would explain the blood, it would explain the cut, it would potentially explain why she went in and broke her out of jail. Maybe she’s taking her somewhere to kill her, I don’t know.”

He didn’t get to hear the excuse Steve had for that, though, as Grover knocked on the door with a hit on their BOLO and they had to leave. 

Saving Steve from his own gigantic, stupid heart would have to wait.

***


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use a lot more scenes from the actual ep in here than usual, but I couldn't help it. They played right into my arc. What was I supposed to do but use such a gift? Also, apologies for it being almost 10,000 words. I'm going to go ice my carpal tunnel now....

Danny wiped his mouth with a napkin before tossing it and the wrapper in the trash. He'd told Grace he would eat better when she wasn't watching, but that was before Zippy's had come out with the pastrami Zip Dog. It was like a little slice of home, mixed with Hawaiian food to create the perfect combination.

Not that he would ever tell Steve that he liked any food that even smacked of Hawaii. 

He wouldn't tell Grace, either. She'd written 'helping people' at the top of her list, and doctor was one of her first options. Danny envied the variety on that list. He'd wanted to be a cop since before he could remember. It was the only job he'd ever considered, and he'd never considered anything else, not once, no matter what the cost to his family, friends and relationships. 

Grace had survived it okay so far, despite all the trauma it had brought into her life. He was pretty sure she'd exceeded the number of hostage situations most people expected to face in their lifetime. Would he have been so hell bent on being a cop if he'd known the effect it might have on her?

The worst effect so far had to be that cop was also high on her list. When she'd started with how she wanted to help people, he'd been all for doctor and lawyer making the list, but he'd had to hold back from trying to talk her out of even considering being a cop. 

Being a cop was amazing. He still couldn't imagine having done anything else with his life so far, no matter the cost. But he'd done it long enough to see the toll it took now. His recent pension reminder had underscored that fact, showing how close he was to twenty years on the job. Being a cop was in his DNA, and he'd thought he'd retire when he was an old, gray grandfather. 

Grace, though…while part of him was proud that she knew being a cop was a noble way to help people, he was mostly terrified at the idea. He got what Rachel was saying all those times—though it didn't excuse her actions by any means—and he got a little of what Grace went through watching him walk out the door to work every day. Soon Charlie would share that fear, unless Danny decided to spare him. Maybe it was time to at least think about what else he might do so his kids could sleep better at night. 

That it would distance him from Steve a little might not be the worst thing in the world. Perspective was difficult to come by when you were in a guy's back pocket fourteen hours a day, minimum, most days. And Danny sorely needed perspective when it came to this thing he had developed for Steve. The couple's Valentine's Day they'd been tricked into hadn't done a thing to stop it, and Madison Gray coming back had only highlighted how much Danny worried about something happening to Steve. 

Maybe a little distance would make him worry less, and focus on his girlfriend more. For all that Melissa was still sharing Danny's bed, she wasn't featuring in any of his dreams while he slept in it. There wasn't a lot he could do to stop his subconscious, but maybe that distance would help. 

What someone who was born to be a cop would do other than be a cop, though…that was the question. Grace's assignment had been to start with a list of what she liked to do. Maybe he should start there.

***

Steve knew all of Danny's silences. He knew the ones that meant he was content, the ones that meant he was worried, or watching and absorbing, or analyzing and the ones where he was truly angry. He wasn't really angry, not this time. No, this was classic Danny deflection. Feign anger and hope that Steve never realizes Danny's trying to hide something. 

It's like he doesn't even know Steve at all. 

"You're overreacting," Steve said, "a little bit."

"Okay," Danny said. "You invaded my privacy. I have a right to be upset, okay?"

Privacy? It wasn't like he'd gone into Danny's desk or something. The list had been right there. "It's not snooping if something's out in the open. That's the rule."

"That's not a rule." 

"Are you serious?" Steve gave Danny a look. "If it's not hidden, it's not forbidden. You never heard of that?"

"No. I never heard of it, because you just made that up."

More deflection. Steve went for the honest approach. "First of all, it's ridiculous to me that you would even write a letter like that, but second of all, the fact that you're getting so worked up about it, it tells me, it informs me, that this is not just about this. It's something else deeper. I know you. It's deeper. So why don't you tell me what's going on and we can talk about it."

"You invaded my privacy! That's it, okay?"

Clearly he'd hit home, judging by the increase in defensiveness—not to mention volume. "Don't tell me," Steve said, "that's fine." He could wait. 

"Okay. Can we drop it, then?"

"Mm-hmm." Danny sounded relieved. Steve couldn't just let it go if Danny sounded relieved, he had to keep some pressure on. Plus, he just so happened to be right. "If it's not put away, looking's okay. It's another one."

"Just take me home," Danny muttered. "Please, take me home. I beg of you."

***

Sang Min's appearance and new information shifted Steve's focus, putting Danny's list and whatever was behind it in the back of his mind as they tried to figure out what was going on. 

"So what you're saying," Danny said, looking at the map up on the screen, "is that they're potentially up there teaching people how to build bombs."

"Maybe," Chin said, "or he could be with Tahan in Kalaeloa. Or anything. I mean, at this point, we don't know what it is."

They needed to find out. Fast. "All right," Steve said, "Chin, you and Kono go have a look at Tahan's place. Danny and I are gonna check this location out."

"How are we gonna check out that location? There's no roads in, no roads out."

Really, he'd expected Danny to do the math faster than that. "Come on," Steve said, heading for the door. "I'll show you."

He refused to answer directly until they were on their way, going too fast for Danny to get out of the car. "With no roads in and out," Steve said, watching the speedometer pass sixty, "the quickest way in is to jump."

"I'm sorry," Danny said quickly, "you said jump? As in from a plane?"

"You said it yourself, Danny, no roads. How else are we gonna get in there?" 

"ATVs? Motorcycles? Horses? Our feet?"

Steve shook his head, pushing the gas a little more. "Too slow."

"Tell you what," Danny said, "you jump. I'll meet you there."

"Danny." Steve glanced at him. "Do you want the terrorists to build and use a bomb in the time it takes us to get to their camp?"

"You don't even know there is a camp." 

Steve sighed. "We're jumping. End of discussion."

Danny being Danny, it was not, of course, the end of the discussion. He was still protesting that he wasn't jumping as they were suiting up. Even as they were getting strapped together for tandem, Danny was still talking about how stupid this was. 

Steve focused on the bickering, focused on Danny's anger, to avoid thinking about the fact that Danny was so tightly pressed against him, held there by straps that weren't going to let them separate anytime soon. The jumpsuits they wore didn't really give Steve any extra protection from the proximity of Danny's ass to Steve's cock, and Steve was doing everything he could to quell an erection that refused to go down completely, no matter how many horrible things he thought about.

It was going to be a long jump.

***

Danny shifted in his seat, taking care not to lean any further back against Steve than he had to. Bad enough that they were about to jump out of a plane—a thought he was trying very hard to push out of his mind—he had to be strapped to Steve to do it. 

His current position was too close to so many positions in his dreams to be anything other than uncomfortable in so many ways. 

At least he was in front and Steve couldn't feel Danny's body's reaction to their situation. Then again, Steve would probably just put it down to excitement over the jump. Steve was clearly excited. Danny couldn't miss the tension thrumming through Steve's body, not this close. An accidental brush too far backwards confirmed Steve was, indeed, very excited.

It was just the jump, Danny told himself. That was all. He reached for anything he could find to distract himself from any other ideas he might get about that 'excitement.' "Why did I agree to this?"

"It's like you said," Steve said, like he hadn't been throwing that back in Danny's face the whole time, "there's no roads in or out of here."

"This is so dumb," Danny said, because it fit the situation in more ways than one. "This is dumb!" 

Steve didn't seem to grasp the full concept of how dumb this was. "Just relax, all right? You're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine. When this light goes green, we're gonna jump, okay?"

"No, I don't want—you know what? I don't want to do it, 'cause if I die, I don't want to be strapped to you like an infant." 

In point of fact, Danny wouldn't mind being strapped to Steve under different circumstances, but he did not want to die anytime soon. 

A beeping started, and Danny felt Steve pushing him forward with a quick, "All right, here we go, buddy!" as he shoved Danny out of the plane. 

Danny yelled, because who was going to stop him? He held his arms out like he'd been told, though, doing his best not to look at the ground he knew was rapidly getting closer. The jolt when the parachute deployed pulled him back closer against Steve, his warmth in the middle of the relative cold almost calming. 

Which sucked.

"I don't like it," Danny said.

"Just breathe, Danny."

"I hate you. I hate you." He did, he hated Steve so much and for so many things right now. 

"Wasn't that something?"

Danny looked around a little. It was a nice view. One he could've happily lived without having seen from outside a plane. "I hate you."

"Try opening your eyes, buddy. Look. Look at how high we are."

Steve laughed, and Danny wished he wasn't quite so paralyzed, because he would've dearly loved to kick him. 

***

"That," Danny said, as he ditched his jumpsuit, "was the worst thing ever, and I am never doing it again." 

"Really?" Steve pulled out the GPS and checked it. "The worst ever? Worse than pineapple on pizza?" 

Steve started in the direction of the camp, Danny following behind, bitching every step of the way. Danny's bitching was the background noise of Steve's life now, and he would never let Danny know how much he secretly enjoyed it most of the time, but it was not what he needed right now. Right now he had a golden opportunity to try to get an answer about that list, and he wasn't giving it up. 

"Why don't you just admit it, huh?" Steve asked. "Admit it, you loved it. Who doesn't love skydiving? In fact, I'm willing to bet that skydiving is gonna go on that list of yours. Right after baseball and hoagies and complaining and..."

"Pretty sure hoagies and complaining was not on my list."

"No, it was not on the list, but it should've been." Steve knew Danny well—he could probably write a list for Danny of all the things he actually loved. "Instead that list was full of things that you've never shown any interest in in your entire life, like travel."

"What are you talking about? I love to travel."

Since when? "Danny, every time you're on a plane with me you moan and groan the entire trip."

"That's because every time I am on a plane with you, there's a good chance I'm gonna die when I land, okay? What is your obsession with this list? Leave it alone. Please."

"No, I don't have an obsession. I have a mild curiosity, all right? That you would A, write a list like that in the first place, and B, be so hypersensitive about it." And C, why Steve wasn't on the list of things Danny liked? But he'd leave that one out.

"Ah. So that means you're not gonna leave it alone. Is that right?"

He had to ask? "You've known me for seven years now." Steve said. "What do you think?"

"Okay. Okay, hey, hey, hey, okay, listen." Steve turned around to see Danny holding up a hand. "Stop for one second. You want to know?"

It has something to do with Danny—of course he does. "Yeah."

"Okay, I'll tell you. That was a list of things that I'd like to do when I retire, okay? You happy now? I said it. Now we can continue. After you, please."

Retire? Steve played that back in his head, and yes, Danny had definitely said retire. "I'm sorry, excuse me. Retire?"

"That's what I said, when I retire. I'm coming up on 20 years. Okay? I'm gonna pension out very soon. I got to think about what comes next."

Retire? _Retire??_ "You're serious right now?"

"I'm absolutely serious." Danny shifted into his sarcastic tone. "No, I want to do this for the rest of my life with you," he said, before he dropped the sarcasm. "Unlike you, I don't want to do this. 

"Okay," Steve said, because it was clear now Danny was deadly serious. "All right. I just want to get it straight, all right? You retire, you retire," if he kept saying it, maybe it would make sense, and also stop sending a shot of panic through Steve's heart, "and then, uh...what?"

Clearly Danny hadn't thought this through. "I don't know, maybe open a restaurant."

Yeah, he really hadn't thought it through at all. "Open a restaurant?"

He listened as Danny talked about an Italian restaurant and his grandmother's recipes, indicating maybe he had thought it through a little more than Steve had realized at first. It did sound nice, but it also meant that Danny would be spending his days in some kitchen, bitching at cooks, instead of in the field, bitching at Steve. 

"Italian restaurant on Oahu." Steve made it sound as dubious as possible, even though he knew of a few of those that had been doing just fine for years. 

"Oahu could use a nice Italian restaurant, don't you think? Anyway, that's what I'd like to do, and you are now free to mock me all you want."

Mocking Danny never got him anywhere in situations like this. Mocking Danny was like breathing. This required a much different strategy. "No, I'm not gonna mock you."

"No?"

"No."

Danny sounded surprised when he said, "Okay."

"I'm gonna tell you that 80% of restaurants fail in the first six months, though."

"Yeah? Okay, we don't have to talk about this anymore, then."

Except they did have to talk about it more, because Steve had to show Danny how ridiculous retirement was. How could he give up all this to go hang out in a kitchen all day? Give up all they do for people to cook?

He'd be miserable inside a month.

Chin's call interrupted before Steve could say anything else though. Steve got the quick message and turned to tell Danny, only to find himself face to face with a gun, and Danny with his hands up. 

This definitely wasn't going to help Steve convince Danny that 5-0 was way better than a restaurant. 

***

They walked for a while, Steve growing more and more annoyed at being at gunpoint by the time they made it to the camp. "You smell that?" he asked Danny quietly.

Danny sniffed. "Bleach?"

"Yeah, they're cooking TATP. A lot of it." Definitely a bomb-making camp. A particularly nasty one. "Those yellow things on their belts are dosimeters. They measure radiation exposure."

"Good news is we found our missing uranium," Danny said.

Steve saw someone come out of a tent, his stomach sinking. "And our missing bomb maker." And their bomb, if he was right about what was on that truck.

They still had time to stop whatever Abati had planned, but they'd lost the element of surprise. Then again, trainees tended to be a little stupid. If this really was a training camp and the guys who'd captured them were new, they might be able to get the jump on them.

Steve slowed down a little, his captor shoving him hard. "Don't stop," the guy said.

Yeah, either new or stupid, otherwise he wouldn't get close enough to shove and lose the tactical advantage of distance. Steve slowed down again, the gun tapping him in the back a second before Steve was shoved again. He gave Danny a look, knowing he'd get the idea, a moment before turning and grabbing the gun out of his captor's hands. 

The fight was quick, both captors on the ground, dead probably before they knew what hit them. They quickly took the camp, but Abati got away on what looked like the only vehicle in the camp that could get out of there in a hurry.

Steve looked around for any other survivors, seeing one man reaching for something in his pocket. Steve rushed over, but not before the man could press the detonator in his hand, the beeping sound lowering the odds that it wasn't actually active. "Where's the uranium?" Steve asked, then asked again, but it was no good. The guy was dead.

Steve looked around and found the truck. He walked over to it, not really surprised when he pulled the tarp off to see a bomb with a clock counting backwards. He went through the list of possibilities as Danny pointed out they had an hour and asked if Steve could diffuse it.

"If I had an instruction manual, maybe." Without that, though, without Abati and without any equipment? 

This was definitely not helping his plan to make Danny think twice about retirement.

***

Steve stared at the bomb, listening as Danny searched the camp for anything they could use. The bomb was a puzzle he couldn't solve, no matter how many ways he tried to slot in the pieces. And if he didn't solve it, he and Danny would be nothing but pieces. Along with a lot of other people. 

"Getting no cell service," Danny said. "And this sat phone here," he held it up, "with the bullet hole in it, I'm pretty sure the warranty's void. So, please, tell me you have something. What do you got? Huh?"

Steve shrugged. "I got a lot of countermeasures here," he said. "I got a lot of fail-safes, I got a lot of decoy wires. I'm thinking Abati's the only person who could defuse this bomb, all right? Now, I could try to disarm it, but if I make a mistake, I'm not just gonna kill you and me, I'm gonna kill half the population on this island."

"Okay, what's the good news?"

"I didn't say I had any good news. We gotta contact the bomb squad."

Danny looked at him like he was crazy. "By carrier pigeon? I'm just curious, 'cause I just told you that my cell phone doesn't work and that thing clearly doesn't work..."

"I heard you, Danny, but, look, we have a truck, all right? And the bomb is already loaded on the truck. All we need to do is drive it to the drop zone." 

The 'you're crazy' look ratcheted up to 'you're absolutely fucking nuts.' 

"We get to that clearing, we have cell service," Steve continued. "Okay? We're gonna take a shortcut so we can get there before this timer runs out. And in the meantime, every cop on the Island is looking for Abati, no? So, hopefully, hopefully, he's in custody by the time we get to the clearing. If not, hopefully, somebody from the bomb squad can talk us through how to deactivate this thing, okay?"

"Just so I'm clear," Danny said, his tone matching the 'fucking nuts' look, "you want to drive a truck with a dirty bomb made out of uranium and TATP—which you personally told me was the most unstable explosive on the planet Earth—you want to drive that through the jungle. Through this jungle, on, at best, uneven terrain. That's what you've come up with?"

"We're gonna drive real slow."

Danny's look definitely said he thought Steve was off-the-charts fucking nuts. But after a second, he said, "Find the keys," and went off to search.

It didn't take long to find them, and then they were in the truck, Danny complaining about Steve slamming the door. As if that alone was going to set it off. Then again, any vibration could, if they weren't careful. And lucky.

Steve put the keys in the ignition, looking at Danny. So many words in Steve's head, so many that he'd pushed aside, tried not to think, ignored when he'd dreamt them all, and now he might never get a chance to say any of them. Which he'd convinced himself was for the best until he was facing the possibility that the next turn of the key might blow them to bits. 

"What?" Danny asked. 

Should he even admit the problem? The last thing Danny needed was to think this wasn't going to work. Then again…. "If this doesn't work, I just...."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't... don't... don't say that. Don't say anything, okay?" Danny sounded desperate. "I don't need to hear it, okay?" 

He might not need to hear it, but maybe Steve needed to say it. Just in case. "I'm just saying, all right, this is an old truck, it's gonna vibrate once the engine's turned over, all right?"

"I didn't need to hear that, Steve. I didn't need that in my life. Okay? Just start the truck, please. Carefully."

"Okay."

Steve put the truck into gear, letting out a breath when nothing blew up. He got ready to turn the key, but the need to say something, even if it wasn't entirely the truth, wouldn't stop. He couldn't go the 'buddy' route, not anymore—they were too close for that. Closer than friends—he literally carried part of Danny with him 24/7. It was more than that, too, but he had to be safe, in case the bomb didn't blow up. He needed plausible deniability. So he settled for a heartfelt, "I love you, bro," the second before he turned the key. 

The engine started, and still nothing blew up. Steve let out a long breath before he slowly started moving the truck forward. 

***

Danny winced with every single bump and tree they brushed as he tried to ignore both the fact that they were possibly going to explode any second with the painful honesty in Steve's voice when he'd said 'I love you' before he turned on the truck. He decided to distract himself by telling Steve to go easy over and over again, as if that might help. 

"All right, you know what?" Steve said finally. "Your saying 'easy, easy, easy' every five minutes is not helping, helping, helping. You understand that?"

"Okay, all right." Danny kept his voice low, just to be on the safe side. "I just want to make sure that you don't go over a ditch or a rock and I end up in a bunch of pieces, okay? You know what it's gonna say on my tombstone?"

"Yeah, I do. It's gonna say 'Here lies Danny Williams, beloved curmudgeon.'"

At least he rated a 'beloved,' thought he curmudgeon part kind of negated the rest. "That's funny. No. It's gonna say, 'Here lies Danny Williams. We think. We're not really sure because we could not find all of him.'"

"Danny, I'm keeping it under eight miles an hour, here. All right?"

"It's not a school zone. I'm not worried about getting a ticket."

"Dude, if I go any slower, inertia is not gonna be on our side, and these bumps are gonna get a whole lot worse, and you know what that means, okay? If I don't maintain this speed, we're not gonna make it to the clearing in time. How we doing on bars?"

Oh, like he'd been ignoring his one job? "Do you not think that if I had bars I would inform you of that, huh?"

"No. You know what?"

"Do you not think that that's what I would do?"

"You know what?" Steve said. "We need to stop, we need to calm down. We need to talk about something else and distract ourselves. That's what we need to do."

Oh, of course, any excuse to get back to that. "Ah. I couldn't imagine what you'd want to talk about."

"Oh, actually, you know what? Just explain something to me, all right? You've never mentioned retirement ever, ever, ever since I've known you. Now it's lists and it's plans and restaurants, you know. Why? Why? Where's it coming from?"

"I told you. I'm coming up on 20 years."

"So what? Doesn't mean you have to retire. It's not mandatory. Why is it on the table?"

Fine. If he really wanted to know the whole story—and why Danny had ever thought he'd get away without telling the whole story he didn't even know. "Okay. Grace got an assignment at school, all right? Her guidance counselor told her to write a list of all the things that she would like to do in life, and that she should pursue one of them. So it got me thinking, all right? Then I decided to make my own list. And as I made my own list, I started to think some more, and I started to think about Charlie."

"What about Charlie?"

"Well, the guy thinks that I am a superhero, okay? And that I'm indestructible." Which was only aided by Steve doing his best to try to ensure Danny was indestructible by taking all the risk himself, but. "Guess what—I'm not indestructible, but he doesn't know that yet. Soon he will know that, just like Grace found out. Right? And he's gonna get worried. Every time I put my gun in my belt, he's gonna be worried about me. And I can save him from that worry if I retire, okay?" 

And save him from maybe following in his dad's footsteps, but that point wouldn't help his case with Steve. "Your father was a cop," Danny said. "You got worried about him, right?"

Then again, given that Steve had gone out and become John McGarrett on steroids, only with some kind of conviction that he actually is indestructible, maybe that wasn't the best comparison. Not that Steve was listening anyway. No, he was tapping on the dashboard. 

"What?" Danny asked. "What is that?"

"We got a problem."

Just one? "I understand that. What is it?"

"Look at the fuel gauge."

They had a quarter of a tank. That was plenty. "So what? We got enough to get there."

"No, you don't understand—this thing was three quarters full when we left. I gotta pull over."

Steve stopped and jumped out. Danny got out and went around to peer under the truck, where Steve was lying on the ground.

"All right," Steve said, "we got a hole in the fuel line, all right? Looks like a bullet must have ripped a hole in it. I gotta fix it."

Right, they'd just run to the nearest garage. "Okay, good. How you gonna do that?"

"There's a repair kit under my front seat; I saw it. It's gonna have a couple of flares in it. Grab those, grab one of the rubber floor mats as well. Bring them out here."

A flare? Seriously? "Wait a minute. What are you gonna do with a flare? I'm just curious."

"I'm gonna melt some of the rubber floor mat over the hole in the rubber hose and it should seal it, all right? It should be easy to fix."

"Oh, good. Good. You're gonna use a flare, fire, underneath the bomb. Is that—I just want to make sure that that's what you're saying?"

"That's a very good point, okay?"

Danny was full of good points. "Thank you."

"Why don't you go find a big piece of wet tree bark, I'm gonna—you're gonna hold it for me. You're gonna hold it between the fuel line and the undercarriage of the truck. It should insulate the heat. Come on, man."

Danny went off to do as he was told, even as he couldn't believe this plan. Even by Steve standards, this was nuts. Lighting a flare under a dirty bomb, touching it to a leaky gas line, and with nothing but damp bark to keep it all from going to hell—literally, a fiery, explosive hell. This was beyond any crazy idea Steve had had. 

But clearly his insanity was contagious, as Danny was following the plan. Then again, it wasn't like Danny had any other options. So he brought the bark back and laid on the ground beside Steve, holding the flimsy bark between the fuel line and the truck while Steve lit the flare.

"Hold on," Danny said, as Steve started to put the flare to the rubber mat. "Just a reminder. I know you know this, but gasoline's flammable, okay?"

"All right, the engine's off. There's no gas in the fuel line."

"There's no gas—where'd you take shop? I mean, there's always gas in the fuel line, unless you do a complete flush. What's the matter with you?"

"Fine. You want to nitpick? There's a couple of drops in the fuel line. How about that?"

Hardly a 'nit' when it could kill them. "Well, yeah. I kind of like to nitpick, 'cause it's my life. So I'm gonna nitpick a little bit, okay?"

"Okay, look. We should be all right."

"Don't say 'should', don't say 'should.' It's uncertain, it's not a good verb, okay?"

"I'm hoping for the best here, Danny."

Oh, hoping, now? Well, that was perfectly okay then. "Don't hope." Danny sighed. There was no point to this conversation. "Just stop talking."

"Well, you trust me a little bit, then," Steve said. Then, in one of his crazier statements of the day, which was saying something, he added, "Tell me you're not gonna miss this."

"Really?" Danny asked. Because…really? Miss almost getting blown up? And getting shot at and actually shot? Having to jump out of planes, or worse, crash land them on a beach while Steve nearly dies? Oh yeah, he's going to miss this like he'd miss a giant spear shoved through his chest.

Steve tested the rubber a couple of times then pulled the flare away. "It's holding," he said, giving Danny one of those big, goofy smiles. "See? Told you it would work. Let's get going." 

Danny moved out of the way so Steve could get up. They got back in the truck, Steve flashing Danny another one of those smiles as he started the engine and they drove off again.

Okay, maybe he'd miss it a little. But he sure as hell wasn't admitting that to Steve.

***

Danny's sudden bout of silence was a little unnerving, but Steve didn't question it, focusing on not getting them killed, right up until Danny said, "All right. We got a problem."

A problem? Just one? "What now?"

"My cell's down to 30%. Where are you at?"

Steve turned a corner and sighed, starting to slow down further. "I don't think it's gonna matter—look." A small creek lay just ahead, looking like it wasn't all that deep, but definitely too deep not to jostle the bomb into exploding before they got across. Even if they could get across.

Still, he had to check it. 

"What are you doing?" Dany asked, as Steve got out of the truck. 

Danny bitched about Steve slamming the door again, as Steve jumped down into the water. The water was only just above his knees, but that was still far too deep for the truck to drive through without blowing up half the island.

"It's too deep," Steve said, already working the problem, trying to think of how to get across without getting dead.

Danny was working the problem, too. "All right, uh...we don't have a lot of time. Maybe, maybe we find another place to cross, huh?"

"No," Steve said, already turning to implement his solution as he explained it. "We're gonna use the boards on the back of the truck and we're gonna build a bridge."

"Can I ask you a question?" Danny asked, as he appeared on the passenger side of the truck. "Do you take into account that I'm here, too? Do I have a say in anything we do? Or you just make decisions all by yourself?"

Really? The guy who'd just announced he was making plans to retire was asking Steve if he was making decisions all by himself? Seriously? "Oh, that's rich coming from you," Steve said.

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do I mean by that?" Steve slammed the seat back, noticing that Danny didn't yell at him for slamming it. "You didn't feel the need to include me in your decision to retire."

"It's my retirement," Danny said, as Steve went around to the back of the truck. "Why would I include you in something like that? It's got nothing to do with you."

Nothing to do with him? Seriously? Like Danny retiring wouldn't affect Steve on a molecular level? "I don't know, Danny. Maybe," Steve said, as he pulled the side of the truck off, "maybe because it's a big decision that affects me, too. Did you think about that? Huh?"

Steve started working on the boards around the bomb. "I mean, you want to talk about trust. Well, I trust you to bring me in on big decisions like that. And quite frankly, it hurts my feelings when you don't."

"Oh, you have feelings? Well, you know what? It hurts my feelings when you roll your eyes when I tell you I want to make a restaurant. That hurts my feelings."

Maybe he wouldn't have rolled his eyes if Danny had told him up front. Maybe he would've been more open to the idea. Maybe he'd have even thought he could join Danny. Because maybe, just maybe, if they were both retired, then there'd be no reason to hold back on this thing between them. Maybe things would be different. 

"Okay, let me ask you a question," Steve said, because nothing would be different if Danny didn't get this point. "If you were still married to Rachel, and you made a decision like this, a big decision that affected her, how would she feel if you didn't tell her about it?"

"Are you comparing my failed marriage to our relationship?"

Did Danny have anything else to compare it to? Because Steve sure as hell didn't—nothing else came close to being the same. "Are you gonna answer the question?"

"She'd be upset."

Exactly Steve's point. "Thank you." Of course, none of that mattered if they didn't get out of here. "Okay, grab this," Steve said, and Danny jumped in to help, the two of them working in sync, perfectly in tandem as if they weren't two people, but extensions of each other somehow. 

The truth was right there, so obvious to Steve why he compared their relationship to Danny's marriage. Why the two of them belonged together. Unfortunately, the reasons they shouldn't be together were just as clear, but at least Danny had to see the correlation. So either he was blind, or he was in denial.

Knowing Danny, it was denial. 

But that worked in Steve's favor for now, so he dropped it, focusing on making sure this bridge would hold, Danny's life literally in Steve's hands as he tied the boards together. He tested that it would hold, then told Danny to drive over. 

"Oh, now I get to drive?" Danny said.

Only because Steve couldn't both drive and guide, and he had more experience in this area in terms of guiding someone over a bridge like this, since Danny had none. "Yeah, yeah, I got to guide you on the thing, all right? So you don't fall off. Let's go, let's go."

He gave Danny instructions, which were followed perfectly, again, like two parts of one whole. It wasn't until Steve could see one of the boards starting to crack that he started to worry. He had Danny hold up just long enough for Steve to make sure it was going to work.

"What's going on? What's going on?" Danny asked.

The moment Steve showed any sign of panic, Danny was dead. "Oh, we're good," Steve said, barely able to breathe through the fear he wouldn't let show. "We're good, buddy." As long as Danny stepped on the damn gas right now. "You gotta keep coming."

"Give me a second. Just give me a second."

They didn't have a second. Danny needed to drive. Now. "We're good. We're good. You got to keep coming, Danny. Danny, listen to me. It's gonna be all right."

Danny hit the gas, and Steve babbled his way through watching the truck bounce through the last bit of the drive as Danny gunned it. The board gave way, but Danny was safe, and Steve filled his lungs with oxygen, forcing his knees not to buckle from relief. 

Danny stopped, and Steve walked around to the driver's side, waiting while Danny got out of the truck. "Nice job, buddy," Steve said, clapping Danny on the shoulder, letting his hand linger there a moment longer than he should, but avoiding the urge to pull Danny into a hug, to reassure himself that Danny was still fine. 

They still had a long way to go, and a short time to get there. He'd save the hugs for later.

***

Of course. The one time they really needed to catch a terrorist alive, they manage to kill him. Because nothing in Danny's life could ever be easy. Certainly not actual life and death situations. 

Steve pulled out his phone, and at least one thing was going right, since he had more battery life, which meant skyping the bomb squad was actually a possibility. 

Not that it did them a lot of good, apparently. 

"You ever see anything like this?" Danny asked.

Petty Officer Aukai was quick, but matter-of-fact, in her response. "No. And while there are ways to defuse it, I wouldn't try any of them in the field. And certainly not without equipment."

Well that was helpful.

Steve was every bit as Navy with the stoicism as Aukai as he said, "Okay, so what you're saying is this thing's going off, is that right?"

"Yes." The Navy sure as hell never sugar coated anything, but then it wasn't like they had time to beat around the bush. "But there may be a way you can minimize the damage," Aukai continued. "If you can remove the uranium canister from the device and get yourselves outside of the blast radius before it detonates, then you'll be okay."

"Okay, so you're saying that we can remove that without setting off this bomb?" Danny asked.

"Yes. But there is another issue. That canister holding the uranium is lead-lined. Right now it's protecting you. It's the only thing protecting you from the radiation. The problem is, if you try to—"

"Yeah, we gotta remove the uranium from the canister to get to the screws that are holding the canister in place," Steve said.

Aukai nodded. "Your guy was smart. To unscrew the canister, you first have to remove the uranium rods. Once the canister is off, then you can put them back in and close it up again."

Danny knew enough to know removing the uranium was bad. Very bad. "How long do we have before we are microwaved while doing that?"

"Not long," Steve said. "It's gonna be fast. I got an idea. Grab the phone. Grab the phone."

Steve ran around the truck to the front, stopping to pop the hood. "What are you doing?" Danny asked.

"Car batteries are made of lead, right?" Steve pointed at the battery. 

So? "What's going on? What are you doing?"

"Look, the lead in the car battery can protect me from the uranium, like the bib you get in the dentist's office before he does an X-ray, you understand?"

"Uh-huh." He understood the concept, he just didn't quite see that working. It wasn't as big as a bib.

Aukai clearly thought it would work, but she made a good, if annoying, point. "Except there's no reason for both of you to risk exposure. Removing the canister isn't a two-man job."

"Want me to do it?" Danny asked Steve. "I'll do it."

He knew Steve's answer before it came. "No. I'll do it. This thing goes off, we're both screwed anyway." Steve spared him one quick glance, even as he kept removing the battery as fast as he could. "Besides, you know I'm a control freak."

"I'm not gonna argue with you." About being a control freak or being the one to handle uranium, even if part of Danny didn't want to walk away. But they didn't have time to argue anyway. "You want to do it, you do it."

"Do me a favor. The little bit of rope on the back tray—grab that." 

Danny went around the back and pulled the rope out carefully. Steve was there with the battery by the time Danny had the rope unknotted. Danny wrapped it carefully around, making sure it supported the battery and was tight enough that it wouldn't fall off.

"All right, all right," Steve said, as Danny pulled on the knot again. "I gotta breathe."

"You want it to come off while you're doing it? Don't be a baby. Good?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Go take some cover, buddy. You, uh, you got no protection from this thing, and I don't want to give your liver back."

Danny didn't want his liver back. He wanted it to live a long, if scary, life inside Steve's body. He also didn't want to move, his legs refusing to obey his brain and walk way, leaving Steve to potentially nuke his entire insides saving the world. 

"Hold on, whoa, whoa," Danny said, as Steve leaned over, preparing to remove the uranium. There were words in Danny's head, so many words in a jumble that he could barely put them into order, let alone figure out which ones to say. 

Steve looked at him. "I'll see you in a minute."

He didn't sound like his normal sure of everything self, and that wasn't the frame of mind he needed going into this. "Hold on." Danny sorted through the mess of words, looking for the ones that would tell Steve everything he should've told him a thousand times before, Steve's 'I love you' from earlier ringing in Danny's ears. But then, Steve only said things like that when he genuinely thought they might not make it. And if he knew Danny was thinking that way right now, it wouldn't help.

"I don't have anything," Danny said finally. "I'm sorry. Good luck."

"Thanks."

Danny forced his legs to obey, walking away when he wanted to stay there and face whatever consequences came. He found a spot where he was protected and waited, sending up a prayer to a God he didn't even buy existed that he'd have time to get those words in order, to figure them out and say them properly. 

It felt like forever, but there was no explosion, and he finally heard Steve say, "Okay, Danny, I got it. It's safe. Come on out, buddy. We got to get the bomb off the back of this truck."

Danny said a thank you to the sky and ran out to help. They got the bomb off the truck and jumped inside the cab once more, Steve gunning the engine, the clear lack of decent shock absorbers showing Danny why it had been so important to stay under eight miles per hour earlier.

"Look," Danny said, at least some of his words falling into place, "I'm sorry. I should've told you." Because of course Danny's retirement affected Steve. Danny had been deluding himself thinking otherwise. 

"It's okay. I'm sorry, too, Danny."

That was a first. "What are you sorry about?"

"For what I'm about to do." Danny knew that tone, started bracing himself even before Steve said, "Hang on to something, buddy!"

The whole world tilted sideways, and Danny hung on for dear life, as Steve intentionally turned the truck onto its side. 

Danny waited until he knew he wasn't dead before yelling, "Are you crazy?"

Steve didn't answer, he just kicked out the windshield and started climbing out of the protection of the truck into the open, with a bomb about to go off. "What the hell is the matter with you?" Danny yelled.

"You want to live," Steve said, looking back in the truck at Danny, "get out of the truck and get behind the engine block. Let's go. Grab the canister," he added, as Danny started climbing out.

He got it now—the engine block was the most solid thing available, and offered the best protection from the blast. Danny got behind it, holding the canister in his lap and praying that the lead was as solid as Steve and Aukai both seemed to think. 

"Danny?"

Danny braced himself for whatever declaration or other type of insanity might come next. "What?"

"If you open that restaurant," Steve said, looking straight ahead, like he couldn't even chance a glance at Danny, "I want you to seriously consider calling it 'Steve's,' please."

Please? And name the restaurant after him? Seriously? "Steve's?"

"Yes, because then if we're not together, we'll still, you know, we're still gonna...we'll be together still."

Right. Of course. Because if they weren't together in the field, Steve needed to know they were still together. He should've known that Steve wasn't going to let go, even if Danny quit being a cop. Everything between them went so much deeper than their partnership, Danny had just been too blind to realize it went both ways. "You're very sentimental," Danny said, hoping that all his fondness really did show through this time.

"All right?" When Danny didn't answer, Steve finally looked at him. "So we good on the name?"

Before Danny could reply, the world exploded around them. Even with the protection of the engine block, the blast knocked Danny forward, onto his hands and knees. He reached up to protect his ears too late—not that it would've helped—and the ringing in them was almost as deafening as the quiet surrounding it. It was worse than every loud concert he'd gone to in his life all happening at once. 

He barely heard Steve's, "Danny, you all right?" like it was a mile away, spoken through two cans tied with string. 

"Yeah," Danny said. 

Steve clearly knew Danny had spoken, just not what he'd said. "Huh?" Steve asked. "How's the canister, man?"

Idiot. Obviously the canister was fine, as they weren't writhing in agony, their insides liquefying themselves. Danny didn't know what to say, where to start in that pile of words in his head, a pile that felt more jumbled than ever. "I...Listen, I'm not gonna retire anytime soon," Danny said, because if he left Steve out there to do shit like this by himself, Danny would be going to a funeral way too soon, "but if I do, I can't name the restaurant Steve's!" 

"The restaurant?"

"Yes!" Because how ridiculous would that be? People would either think he was insane, naming it after someone else, or they'd know. They'd know things that Danny wasn't even sure he was ready to know. "The restaurant! Steve's!"

From Steve's reaction, it was clear he hadn't heard the important parts of what Danny said. "Aw. It means a lot to me, man."

"No, I can't...." Danny stopped, because what was the point? Even if Steve did hear the right words, he'd just ignore them.

"I can't hear anything!" Steve said. 

"I can't hear anything, either!" Danny replied. He rolled over until he was facing Steve, seeing with his own eyes that he really was in one piece, and relatively unharmed. Of course, there was a chance both of them would be unable to hear properly ever again, but in Danny's case, that might be a blessing. 

Steve had the tendency to pick some truly horrible music in the car, after all.

Steve stumbled to his feet, finding his footing before he walked over to Danny and held out a hand. Danny took it, letting out a last, long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he felt that warm, solid grip around his. 

He pulled himself up with Steve's help, a bout of vertigo almost sending him to the ground again. Steve's hands went to Danny's shoulders, steadying him until the ground stopped shaking in his mind. Danny looked up, the silence in his head from the blast only adding to the sudden feeling that he and Steve were alone in the world, safe inside their own bubble. 

Steve licked his lips, and Danny couldn't stop the small groan that escaped him. It was like that night in his house, only so much stronger, given the day they'd had, and Danny was tired. He was so tired of ignoring all of this, so tired of fighting not to give in, of working so hard to pretend he didn't want it. 

When Steve leaned down, Danny met him halfway, and yeah, he realized now why he'd fought so hard. Because this...this was more earth shattering than the bomb they'd just lived through. The bomb had left a crater on the island, but left Danny intact.

The kiss shattered Danny into about a million pieces.

Steve let go at last and Danny followed suit, only to be pulled into a bone-crushing hug, the kind of hugs the two of them shared after life-altering events, the ones Danny hadn't realized he'd been storing up and using that feel of Steve's arms around him to fuel his dreams. 

"Sorry," Steve said, his breath warm against Danny's ear before Steve pulled away, putting an arm's length of distance between them. "I—sorry," he said again. "I just needed...."

Danny shook his head. "It's okay." Danny stepped back, out of Steve's hands, struggling for equilibrium from more than just the effects of the bomb. "We were both relieved that we weren't dead."

Steve was silent long enough that Danny took a chance and met Steve's gaze. What he saw there triggered something deep in Danny's gut, but then Steve closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, it was gone. That light Steve had when he looked at Danny was still there, though, only now Danny understood it so much better.

It didn't change anything. It just made it a lot harder to do what needed to be done. 

The sound of helicopter blades, combined with the familiar wind they created caught Danny's attention, dragging it away from Steve as the chopper landed nearby. Chin and Kono jumped out, running over to hug Steve and Danny and lead them to the chopper, even as other helicopters were landing to deal with the fallout of the bomb. 

Danny left the mess behind gladly, following Steve into the chopper. Danny leaned in close to Kono, yelling "Tripler," in her ear, even as he heard Steve trying to get the pilot to go to HQ. Kono took one look at Danny and nodded, relaying the order through her headset for the pilot to go straight to Tripler.

Steve glared at Danny, and while Danny knew Steve would never listen to the long list of reasons why Steve needed to get checked out after handling uranium with his bare hands, he knew the one thing that would get Steve to go along without complaint. So Danny pointed at his own ears and winced, shaking his head gently. 

One of Steve's hands reached out, grazing the side of Danny's face, as if protecting his ear for a moment, before Steve nodded. His hand landed on Danny's back as they settled into the seats for the short flight to Tripler.

Danny didn't bother to move away.

***

Steve indulged Cornett as he ran his last round of tests. Well, he let Cornett run them—he was really indulging Danny, who'd been standing silently in the corner, refusing even to leave as the doctors had checked his ears and his vital signs, Danny's eyes on Steve the whole time. 

Steve had submitted to more tests to ensure he wasn't going to suffer any ill effects. When he'd first arrived, he'd allowed them to take his clothes and he'd taken a thorough shower. He could see Danny had done the same, given the scrubs and how his hair was still wet when Steve had come back into the room.

It had been the only time they'd been separated, which hadn't given Steve much of a buffer to think about that kiss without feeling Danny's eyes on him. It was like Danny was afraid Steve would lie about what the doctors said, or like he was going to try to escape. 

Like Steve was the one who'd been hiding anything? 

Well, he'd been hiding his feelings, but those probably weren't so hidden anymore, not after that kiss. He'd poured everything he had into that kiss, and he'd felt all of Danny in the response. No matter what Danny might say about getting away, or how much time he spent with Melissa, Steve knew better now. 

Danny was in this just as deep as Steve was.

That retirement list made so much more sense now. Danny wasn't looking to leave, he was looking to escape his own thoughts. Plans about a life without Steve were how Danny pretended like anything other than the two of them belonging together was even remotely possible.

It wasn't, but Steve was used to Danny taking a while to open up when it came to the important things. It had taken Danny years to confess about the things that were at his core—his real reason for hating the ocean, his claustrophobia, every single thing Danny kept guarded and ignored himself as much as he could. 

Steve had no such defenses anymore—Danny had started tearing at them the moment he'd pulled his gun on Steve in the garage all those years ago. He knew their therapist would have a field day if he ever told her that one, but he was careful to let on just enough with her and guard the rest of his secrets. He'd save those for Danny—he'd earned the right to be the first one to hear them. 

"Well," Cornett closed the last of the test results and put them down, "I'd say I'm surprised how well you came through this, but I know you well enough to not be surprised at all."

"See that," Steve said to Danny. "I am indestructible after all."

"As someone who has seen your insides," Cornett said, "I can promise you that you're made of the same fragile material as the rest of us. But you do seem to have some kind of a guardian angel." 

"Lucky charm," Steve said, eyes on Danny.

Danny huffed. "If that's a leprechaun joke, I'm going to punch you." 

"Okay, before this gets mean, I'm going to leave the two of you alone," Cornett said. "You're free to go, but I want you both to check in monthly for the next six months to make sure there are no ill effects from radiation exposure."

Steve nodded. He'd make sure Danny came, even though his chances were slim, by making sure the only way Steve went was if Danny went with him. He planned to make sure Danny was around long enough for Steve to wear him down and make him realize that hiding from the inevitable didn't change the inevitability of it. 

In the meantime, Steve would do everything he could to hurry that process along.

***


	19. Chapter 19

Danny blamed the nausea he felt on the fact that he'd just eaten lunch when he got the news alert. The cold cuts turned over in his stomach as he read the words 'earthquake' and 'no word on casualties,' only just comprehending them as he'd already hit the button to dial Steve. 

The nausea abated only a little when Steve answered on the second ring. "Everyone's fine," Steve said, all the niceties completely unnecessary. "Tell Grace and Charlie that Oahu is fine, so Rachel and Stan are okay, too, I'm sure."

"They're outside—they haven't heard yet." Grace's phone was on the kitchen table—Danny had heard it buzz several times. "Everyone's really okay?" 

"Yeah." Steve sounded distracted. Understandable, considering earthquakes on Hawaii were a rarity. Danny had always been more worried about Diamond Head opening up and spewing fire than a crack opening up in the earth. "Teams are already gearing up to check around the island for any structural problems, but the worst of it hit the Big Island. Chin and Kono are getting ready to head over there now." 

"You're not going?" Relief warred with surprise. Steve had a habit of getting himself into life-threatening situations every time Danny left. Or Steve left without him. 

Basically, Steve without Danny led to all kinds of trouble for Steve. Which, by extension, ended up as trouble for Danny. Then again, Steve had come closest to losing his life when Danny had been right by his side, so maybe Steve was just a near-death magnet no matter what.

"The Governor wants a presence here, too, in case anyone tries to take advantage of the situation." 

Of course, response teams would be spread thin, and HPD would be helping them. It would be just the right opportunity for crime. Which meant Steve would likely be going to solve it on his own. "No heroics, Steven."

Steve's chuckle did nothing to help that feeling Danny was getting just from talking to him. He'd tried to ration his Steve time since the bomb without being obvious about it, hoping maybe it would be a little like allergy shots.

But that flip in his gut had nothing to do with his sandwich. It just confirmed the whole idea that Danny was still screwed.

"What's the matter, Danno?" Steve asked, voice pitched low, turning that flip into somersaults. "Worried?"

"Considering you manage to almost die every time I leave the island—"

"Not every time!"

"Really?"

There was a long silence. "I'm sure it's not every time," Steve said, finally, sounding less than certain.

"You can't think of a single example, can you?"

Another long pause. "You're just mad that you're missing all the excitement."

Danny smiled, settling into the kitchen chair, secure enough that he didn't feel the need to point out his victory. "Excitement? No, no, my friend, I am extremely glad that my children and I are five thousand miles from this 'excitement' you're talking about." 

"You miss it, and you know it." 

No, he didn't really miss the heart in his throat terror that Steve was going to get himself killed right in front of Danny. He didn't miss the sand and relentless heat, and he didn't miss the endless water everywhere with no way to escape that didn't involve being trapped in a tube or a boat.

"I miss nothing."

There was that chuckle again. "Liar." 

Steve made the word sound almost dirty, and Danny's cock twitched. He gripped the phone tighter. "I don't. Not the island. Certainly not you." 

Seriously, that chuckle was going to kill Danny. "You keep telling yourself that." 

Danny cleared his throat. "Don't you have some crime to be preventing?" 

"I should probably get to that, yeah," Steve said, but his tone left no doubt that Steve knew he'd won that round. "I'll check in a little later, okay?"

"Yeah," Danny said. "Let me know you didn't get yourself killed." 

He could almost hear Steve's eyeroll. "Goodbye, Daniel."

"Later, Steven."

Danny ended the call, staring at Steve's face on the phone for a second before dropping the phone onto the table.

"You know," said Bridget's voice behind him, "you didn't even sound like that when you talked to Rachel when you guys were married."

Danny did his best to pretend that she hadn't scared the shit out of him. How the hell was she always so quiet? "I'm gonna put a bell on you," he said.

She sat down next to him at the table, a smug grin on her face that somehow reminded him of Steve. "You've been threatening that since I was five. I don't see one yet."

"Yeah, well, wait until you fall asleep next time."

She hmphed at him. "Yeah, right. And don't think I didn't notice how you tried to ignore what I said."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Really? The part where I said that you didn't sound like that talking to Rachel when the two of you were married?"

He was really getting tired of comparing his relationship with Steve to his relationship with Rachel. After all, look how well that had worked out?

And wasn't that the problem here?

"Yes, dear sister, because Rachel was my wife. Steve is...." 

He looked for the right word, but Bridget just smiled at him like she already had her own words. "A spouse is a spouse," she teased.

"Do you have anything useful to say?" Danny recognized he'd more or less just let her think she'd won, but nothing he could say was going to dissuade her, so why try?

"Pretty sure I just said it." 

"Sorry," Danny said, shaking his head. "No idea what you're talking about." 

"You really are a horrible liar."

Danny picked up his plate, sweeping a few crumbs off the table onto it before taking it over to the sink. "You really don't know what you're talking about," Danny grumbled, rinsing the plate off and putting it in the dishwasher. She didn't. "A person would have to be insane to agree to marry Steve McGarrett. I'm pretty sure it would be in the vows – 'do you promise to love, honor and be insane with him?'"

"You'd say yes to all of it."

Danny gripped the edge of the sink. "Yeah, because marriage has worked out so well for me in the past."

Bridget got up and crossed the room to stand next to him. "You and Rachel were too different, Danny," she said softly.

"Oh, and Steve and I are alike? I beg to differ. He's completely insane."

"You're alike where it counts. Rachel never got that cop side of you. That need to be out there helping people. What it would do to you if you gave it up." 

_Tell me you won't miss this._ Steve's words, uttered at a moment Danny had been convinced he was absolutely going to end up in a million pieces before the day ended. And yet...he hadn't been entirely wrong. How well Steve knew him still scared him a little. 

Almost as much as that kiss had.

"What's that face?" Bridget asked, leaning in, eyes searching his face.

"What? Nothing. It's just my face."

The words came out too fast, too close together, and Bridget relaxed a little, a huge smile taking over her face. "Something happened."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

She shook her head, smile growing impossibly wider. "Something happened. Spill it."

Decades of experience told him not to bother lying anymore. "Okay, so we kind of...kissed. That's all."

"That's all?" Her shriek reminded him of Grace. "That's not 'all,' as you put it, Danny. That's something."

"It was nothing," he insisted. "Seriously, we'd just almost been blown up by a dirty bomb and it was just relief."

"Oh yeah?" She leaned on the counter, arms folded over her chest. "Does Steve think it was just relief?" 

"Clearly, since he hasn't said anything."

He didn't like that smile, the one that said she'd caught him out. "I see," she said, and he got the feeling she did see, a lot more than he did. "So what now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what now? Where do you go from here?"

"Nowhere. We put it behind us. There is no here from which to go."

She tilted her head, frowning at him. "You know, I always had this idea that gay guys would be so much more in touch with their emotions."

"I will kill you and no one will ever find the body."

"Right, you've been saying that since I was five, too." Her smile faded, and he kind of hated the concern in her eyes even more. "Seriously, Danny, you know you can't just ignore it, right?"

"Trust me, if anyone can ignore something like this until he's dead, it's Steve McGarrett."

"I wasn't talking about Steve." 

Danny stared at the tiles on the counter, running a finger over the grooves in between. "There's a lot more to consider than just, well..."

"That you want to jump his bones?"

He grabbed the kitchen towel from the counter and smacked her with it. 

"Hey, I'm just being realistic here, Danny. It's not like any of that's just going to go away."

"It will," Danny said, trying to ignore the desperation even he could hear in his voice. "It was just in the moment. Trust me, if it was anything else, Steve wouldn't have any problem picking me up and moving me into his house over any objections I might have. Clearly it's nothing."

She was studying him again, and he did his best to look convinced of his own words. "You know him really well," she said, "but I don't think you fully understand him yet." 

"What, you've met the guy, like, twice and you understand him better than I do?"

She shook her head. "I understand you. And it only took once meeting him to understand everything I need to know about this." 

The words didn't make sense, but Danny wasn't about to ask for clarification, not when he just wanted this conversation over. "Look, it's nothing, which is for the best. We're already too close, Steve and me. If this blew up...."

He remembered the days right after everything with Rachel fell apart, and yeah, he couldn't imagine that this time around. So many things would be so much worse.

Maybe he wasn't quite as confused about why people kept comparing the two relationships after all. 

The concern in Bridget's eyes deepened. "Okay." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll leave it alone."

"Thank you," he said, the words heartfelt. 

Her hand dropped. "For now," she said. 

"I hate you so much."

"No, you don't."

***


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - work kicked my ass this week. Hoping to have the 721 coda up faster than this. :)

_"Rachel and Stan are gonna get a divorce."_

The words kept echoing in Steve's head on the drive home, trading off with Danny telling him that Stan thought Rachel was still in love with Danny. When he'd first heard that, he'd thought it was nuts. Rachel had lied to Danny for years about his own son—who does that to someone they love?

Then again, Catherine had claimed to love him, and look how that had gone.

So maybe she did love Danny. So what? That didn't mean Danny loved her back. Or that he could forgive her, no matter how he might feel. Just because someone loves you doesn't excuse the kinds of lies that Rachel told. The way she'd denied Danny his son—Danny, the greatest father on the planet—how could anyone forgive that?

It was impossible.

And yet, Danny had gone over to Rachel's despite—or maybe because of—being hit on the head hard enough to leave a cut. Steve had sent him home to rest, and instead Danny had sent a text that he was going to Rachel's. 

Like that was a good idea, with or without a head injury.

Steve didn't need a crystal ball to see where this was going. Danny had always been too much of a softy, too quick to forgive anyone other than himself. And now Danny was over at Rachel's before Stan's plane had even landed in Vegas.

Yeah, no fortune teller needed for that one. 

Danny might not even realize it yet, but he was done for. Rachel was free, and she was the one person he'd always wanted more than anyone. More than Gabby, more than Melissa.

And apparently more than Steve.

In a life made up of disappointing milestones, it was the one that should've been the most obvious, and yet Steve had still let himself hope. He'd finally convinced himself Danny wouldn't leave, that Danny was actually, maybe the one thing Steve would be allowed to keep.

Well, Danny might not leave. Maybe he'd just retire right there, open a restaurant, and have five more kids with Rachel.

Not that it mattered. If he did, Steve would make sure he had his own table at the restaurant, and be the best Uncle Steve to all seven Williams kids he could be.

He might not be able to have Danny the way he wanted, but he'd take any part of him he could get.

***

Danny turned into his driveway at the last second, his attention on anything but the route home. Watching Rachel tell the kids Stan had left had been like some weird déjà vu that made him glad to be many years removed from the day he and Rachel had split up. 

He wasn't sure if those years had made him any wiser, but he certainly was glad they'd dulled the pain a little. 

The house was dark and quiet inside, the keys louder than usual when he dropped them in the bowl near the door. It always felt quieter when Grace and Charlie were with Rachel, but it seemed amplified tonight. 

_"I'm done, because it's clear to me that Rachel's still in love with you, Danny."_

Stan's words, said with the tone of someone accepting a universal truth, not an accusation. Or a truth Stan believed to be universal—that didn't necessarily make it so. You spend every night sleeping with a woman who lied to you about a son you thought was yours for years...you might have a little bit of a skewed idea of the truth where she was concerned.

Danny could more than understand that. 

The lies Rachel had told couldn't be forgotten. He wasn't sure they could ever be completely forgiven. But a little part of him would always love her, at least, and he couldn't stand to let her go through breaking the news to the kids alone. 

And he especially couldn't let the kids go through it without both parents there to support them. 

His phone rang, the distinctive Skype tone that usually meant Grace, who might need her dad after the news tonight. He fished the phone out of his pocket as he dropped onto the couch, but it wasn't Grace's face on the screen, it was Bridget. 

Danny hit accept, and a moment later, Bridget's face filled up most of his screen. "Hey Dann—whoa."

"What?" Danny asked. 

"Who shot your dog?" 

Danny sunk down lower into the couch. "I don't have a dog."

"Is that why you look so..." she made a circle around her face, the move eerily similar to Steve's earlier in the day.

"So what? How do I look?"

"Like someone shot your dog."

Danny sighed. "It's been a long day."

Her face softened. "Bad case?"

"Not really," Danny said. Because it wasn't like there was any kind of parallel between a woman who lied to her husband and his situation. At all. "Just...." To hell with it—she'd get it out of him anyway. "Rachel and Stan are getting a divorce."

"No shit? Seriously?"

Danny nodded. "I just got back from Rachel's. She had to tell the kids tonight."

"I'm sorry," Bridget said quietly. "I know that sucked for you after...well...after."

After he'd been through that once before. "Yeah, not my best memory."

"So," Bridget said, and Danny did not like that look on her face, "you just went over there to help her with the kids, right? Nothing else?"

"What else would there be?"

"You know how when you were ten you ran away from home," Bridget said, "but they found you in your tree house in under five minutes?"

Bridget logic had never been his strong suit, but especially not after a day like this. "I assume you have a point." 

"And I assume you have a brain. So you know that I'm saying you do have a tendency to run to the most familiar thing, even if it's not good for you."

"Not good for me? How is a tree house not good for me?"

"The boards were rotten and you fell through when Dad came up after you. And I wasn't talking about the tree house being bad for you."

Danny leaned into the corner of the couch, switching the phone to his other hand. "What's bad for me, then?" he asked.

"Rachel. You can't get back together with her, Danny. I will personally show up at the wedding to object. With handcuffs and a gun."

"For me, or for Rachel?"

"Both. What the fuck is wrong with your head? Seriously?"

Danny sat up, blowing out a long breath. "Who even said I was getting back together with Rachel?" he asked. "I only found out this morning she was getting a divorce."

"And you were already over there until after midnight tonight."

"Bridget, I am not seriously considering getting back together with Rachel."

She tilted her head in that way that always reminded him of their dog when he'd caught a scent. "You said you weren't seriously considering it. That means you're considering it."

"I am not."

"Well, it's not like you could anyway," Bridget said. "You're already married to Steve."

"Steve and I are not married."

She made the same sound she'd made when he said he didn't have a crush on Betty Roberts (a lie). And on Patty Miller (also a lie). And Cathy Beechman (true, but only because she'd turned him down already). "You keep telling yourself that one," Bridget said, looking completely unimpressed. 

"Really, I swear, we are not married." 

"You went to _counseling_ for that relationship, Danny. For fuck's sake, you wouldn’t even do that for Rachel. How are you not married?"

"Okay, a, Steve and I? Still not married. B, I am not considering getting back with Rachel. But she might've had a point, okay?"

Bridget's eyerolls were legendary in their family for a reason. "Oh? Did she make the point that you were married to Steve, too?"

"No, smartass, I'm talking about my job. Maybe she was right all along. Maybe I should think about my kids and reconsider my line of work."

"Oh my God! You are totally thinking about getting back together with her! You're even thinking about leaving the best job you've ever had. Danny, I swear to God I will shoot you."

"Not if Steve gets me killed first. You won't have a chance!"

Bridget sighed, and Danny didn't like the look in her eyes a moment before she said, "Look," she said finally, "you've been down this road before, Danny. Twice. And it ended badly both times. I don't think third time's the charm here."

"I never said I was going down that road."

She was looking past the phone now, one hand reaching out, and he could hear typing. "I'm just saying you need to stop looking for happiness in the same place you lost it."

"Are you seriously checking your email right now?" Danny asked. "While you give me platitudes?" 

"No, I am looking for a flight to come to Hawaii and kick your ass. Have you learned nothing in your forty years, Danny? Don't change yourself for someone. If they don't appreciate the way you are, find someone who will. Oh wait, you already have, you idiot—Steve!"

"Rachel and I are not getting back together, Bridget. And even if we were, it's not like Rachel has even said I should quit my job. I just thought maybe she had a point. That is all."

Bridget shook her head. "Find someone who loves you just the way you are, not someone who wants you to be who they want you to be." 

"Maybe this is who I want to be now, did you ever think of that? Maybe it's time to make a change in my life."

"Life will only change when you become more committed to your dreams than you are to your comfort zone." 

"What did you do, buy a fortune cookie company?" 

"No, Google, dumbass. I can do this all day."

Seriously, siblings, what the hell? "Well if you have Google, then you don't need to talk to me, do you?"

Bridget pressed her lips together, clearly measuring her words before she said, "Danny, do you remember how miserable you were for years over her? Because I do. If it hadn't been for Grace, you guys wouldn't have lasted half as long as you did. You love that kid more than you ever really loved Rachel."

"Bridge—"

"No, Danny, I've seen you in Hawaii. You're happy there—no matter how much you bitch about the sand." She took a breath before continuing. "And I've seen you with Steve, and you're happy there, too." 

"Steve's going to get me killed."

"Steve is the only reason you started living again in the first place. Get your head out of your ass." 

Danny gripped the phone tighter, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. "Look," he said carefully, "it's after midnight. I need some sleep. What did you call for?"

"I just called to say hi."

"Liar."

She shrugged. "Fine. I called because Grace texted me what happened and I wanted to see if you were okay, or if you had lost your mind. Clearly it's the second."

"Grace texted you?"

"Yes, I'm her aunt. We do talk, you know."

"What did she say?"

Bridget shook her head. "Aunt/niece confidentiality. But she didn't need to say anything more than that Rachel and Stan were getting divorced for me to call and tell you not to be an idiot."

"Can we please not do this right now?"

"Sure. Fine. We can do it tomorrow. And the next day and the next, until you have your head on straight."

Danny sighed. "Bridget, I promise not to go elope with Rachel tomorrow if you just let me get some sleep."

She studied him for a few seconds before she nodded. "Call me tonight. Or I'm getting on a plane."

"I will talk to you later," Danny said sternly.

"You know I love you," she said. "Right?"

"Yeah, me, too. Now go to work."

"Go to bed." 

"Yes, Mom."

"Ass—"

He hung up before she could finish, dropping the phone on the couch. He had a feeling he'd be hearing from his mother in the morning with the same line of questions and caution. Funny how everyone who knew him well automatically assumed he was just going to go dancing right back into Rachel's arms.

Everyone but Steve, who's reaction had been an emphatic no way at the very suggestion that Danny might go back to Rachel. And Steve knew him better now than anyone else, even if sometimes Steve chose not to see everything that was there. 

Surely if Steve was certain that Danny wouldn't go back to Rachel, Danny wasn't deluding himself that he had no intention of falling back into her arms like nothing happened.

Steve was sure. That was all Danny needed to know he wasn't just deluding himself. 

***


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke my streak after years and didn't get codas done between eps. :( Sorry about that, but work seriously kicked my ass and then some. So I'm playing catch up as fast as I can. Hope you enjoy, even if it's a little late. :)

"Seriously, Danny, it's just a routine checkup," Steve said. "Don't you have something better to do?"

Danny shook his head, that smile that always made Steve brace himself for whatever was coming next firmly on display. "Nope. Nothing."

"Your kids don't need you?"

"Rachel has the kids this weekend." 

Steve stepped through the front door and out into the light, turning toward their cars. "I have my truck, see," he said, pointing towards the parking lot. "I'm fine."

"See, you are clearly not fine," Danny said, "because you just turned down an opportunity where I am willingly letting you drive my car." 

Which was setting off even more alarm bells than the smile. "Okay," Steve said, because clearly there was nothing he could do to stop Danny from coming. "If you insist."

"Oh, I do, Steven." Seriously, that smile said nothing good. "I really do."

Steve shrugged as he got into the driver's seat. "Suit yourself. Hope you enjoy the four-month-old magazines in the waiting room."

Because there was no way in hell he was letting Danny in for the actual exam.

***

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d done to warrant the torture of Danny standing there watching him disrobe, but he was pretty sure he’d remember a sin that big. He would definitely remember one that ended up with Danny’s hands all over him, standing so close and joking around, that light in his eyes that, for all Steve wanted to think it was for him, he knew had to be because Rachel was free.

Danny was all about family. There was no way he would miss this chance to put his family back together. And Steve would support that in the end, even when all he wanted was to drag Danny home, lock him in the house, and keep him there until he realized that Rachel was all wrong for him. The kiss they’d shared proved that, but Danny seemed to have forgotten that even happened. 

Dr. Kohashi mercifully interrupted Danny’s manhandling. The mercy ended there, however, since Danny clearly had no intention of leaving and Kohashi had no intention of following those pesky HIPPA laws and not saying anything with Danny in the room. 

Maybe HIPPA didn’t apply when part of the other person’s body now lived inside you?

Whatever the reason, Kohashi spilled the beans, and Danny was not pleased. Then Danny asked about the radiation, and Steve did his best not to wince. He’d scheduled this appointment as quickly as he could after that whole incident in hopes that the radiation info hadn’t made it into his record yet and he would be able to avoid tests and questions about its effect on his transplant. 

His initial worry had been more for Danny than himself, but when neither of them had any body parts falling off or any other less-scary symptoms, that worry had faded. Surely something would’ve shown up by now if there was anything to worry about. 

Besides, judging by Danny’s silent judging face as Steve got dressed, there probably wasn’t much to worry about anyway. Danny was going to kill him for hiding the truth before any radiation could do it for him. 

***

Danny tapped his fingers on the door as Steve headed back to HQ. 

“Okay, out with it,” Steve said finally. 

Danny shrugged, the casual way he was slumped into the seat at odds with the way every muscle was bunched up, ready for a fight. “Out with what?” he said. “What could I possibly have to come out with, Steve?”

“Danny—“

“I mean, it’s not like you have been lying to me every day about what you can do, all the while studiously ignoring the very wide gap between what these doctors who spend years learning about this stuff say you should be doing and what you’re actually doing.”

Steve sighed, which only annoyed Danny more. “You heard the doctor, Danny. My recovery is going well.”

“No, he said your recovery is slower than expected. Why? Because you’re a giant moron who insists on jumping off things and onto things and just jumping everything.” Except Danny, which was another source of annoyance, even as he told himself that was for the best. Especially with this clear death wish Steve had. “Sure, maybe right now my liver is handling it—“

“Oh, so it’s ‘my’ liver again now? What happened to ‘ours?’”

He really didn’t want to go there right now. “Right now _my_ liver is handling it,” Danny said again, “but what happens when you push it too far, huh, Steve? What happens when you don’t listen to the medical experts one too many times and my liver ends up six feet under in your body? Huh?”

Which was, of course, the real problem. Steve was going to keep going until he got himself killed, possibly getting Danny killed in the process. Though Danny was less worried about that, if only because he knew that Steve would sacrifice himself six ways from Sunday to keep Danny alive. Only that would mean that Steve would be dead, and Danny really wasn’t okay with that. 

He just didn’t know what he could do about it. Steve was Steve, and all the things Danny loved about him came hand in hand with the ones that drove him crazy. It made Rachel look even safer, and it made her fears about Danny’s job so much easier to understand. 

It just didn’t change Danny’s feelings for Steve. 

***

Even when they were working on the case, Danny still wasn’t letting up. Steve had hoped that maybe the case would distract him, but no. On the way to the helicopter, Danny was still lecturing. “Light cardio,” Danny said louder than needed, since he was right in Steve’s ear as he said it. “You heard the doctor. Light cardio. That means no jumping out of the helicopter, no fighting, no heavy lifting. None of that is light cardio, Steven, do you hear me?”

“Hard not to hear you when you’re yelling in my ear, Danny.”

“Well, you know, for all that empty space in there you are incredibly bad at hearing, so I figure I need to yell a little.” 

A little? “Danny, all you do is yell.”

“Because you don’t listen. So, now that I have your attention, what are you not going to do if we find Yakuza goons on the island?”

“I am not going to keep them from shooting you?”

“Very funny. You are not going to let them beat you up and ruin my liver.”

Again with the ‘my liver’ thing. Danny could say whatever he wanted, but Steve was going to do everything he could to survive, and more than that to ensure Danny’s survival.

If it made Danny feel better to bitch about it, fine.

***

What did it say about Danny's psyche that, when faced with dead bodies hanging from trees, his first thought was to imagine one of them was Steve? 

He pushed the thought aside immediately—his brain would have to deal with the hyperactive worry about Steve dying some other time. Ignoring the possibility—no, the likelihood of that was the only way to do his job. 

Of course it was that very thought that would lead to the Yakuza pointing guns at them.

The guy Danny assumes to be the head honcho said, completely unironically, "You're trespassing."

Steve being Steve, of course he had to run his mouth. "I'm pretty sure this is a private island, so that makes two of us, right?"

Which leads one of the Yakuza goons to punish Steve for mouthing off to the boss by hitting him on the back with a gun. Steve fell to his knees, and the imagined scene of him hanging from the trees hit Danny again, along with Kohashi's words about what Steve should and should not be doing. A few more blows and for all Danny knows Steve could actually be hanging from a tree.

"You son of a bitch!" Danny lunged forward, trying to get their attention on him instead of Steve. He didn't make it very far before three of them had him firmly held back, but it did the trick. They were all at gunpoint, but nobody was dealing Steve anymore blows. 

"Anyone else got something to say?" the main guy asked. After a moment he said, "I didn't think so."

Danny was really going to enjoy arresting him. 

***

Steve watched as the soldiers packed up the camp, looking for any way to get his foot in the door—or out the door, in this case. He could get the lock open if he just had something explosive. Or if he could find one sucker willing to be tricked into letting them go. But he needed something, and he needed it fast. 

"Guys," Kono said, "looks like they're almost finished." 

"If we're gonna make a move, we need to make it now," Chin said.

Fine. Time to bluff his way through this. "Hey," Steve said to the nearest guard. "Yeah, you, come here. I need to talk to you. Come here for a second, would you, please?"

Danny's voice was low and quiet behind him as he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Ordering room service," Steve said, just as quietly. "What do you think? I've got an idea."

"I'd like to hear it," Danny replied.

Like Steve had time to argue about a half-formed plan that Danny would only tell him was insane? Steve focused on the guard. "Listen. I need to talk to Matsu." 

"That's not gonna happen."

Oh yes it was. "Trust me, I got something. He's gonna want to hear this." 

Which was all it took to get Steve out of the cell. The guard took him to Matsu, who agreed to listen to him. Steve told Matsu a story about Shioma having money stashed away, hoping he was selling it well enough. From the look on his face, he thought he might have it, but the next words he heard killed that idea.

"He's lying," came the voice from behind Matsu, a moment before Shioma appeared. 

Well fuck. There went that plan. Plan B it was.

Steve waited until he was on the ground before he made his move, using the dirt to try to blind his attackers. He managed to get a gun, but maybe Kohashi had a point, because four guys were able to get a jump on him. 

Clearly he'd lost his edge if four untrained goons could best him.

But he got what he came for, as he checked the bullet he'd stashed in his boot, even as the goons were already working to pull him up to his feet again. 

***

Danny watched as the thugs threw Steve back into the cell. Just a few hours before the doctor had been telling them Steve shouldn't even be doing heavy lifting, and now Steve looked like he'd just taken on half the Yakuza. 

Seriously, anyone who would fall for this guy had to have more than a few screws loose himself.

He could hear Bridget's laughter in the back of his head, and he quickly locked the door on his inner Bridget voice. She wasn't going to be helpful in this situation, not when Danny was struggling to keep from yelling at Steve and exposing his biggest weakness to the entire camp. Announcing that one good punch to the liver would probably do Steve in wouldn't exactly help anything.

It didn't help, either, that Steve's reason for getting his ass kicked yet again was both sound and successful. Of course. He's Steve McGarrett.

The rest of Steve's plan wasn't any less crazy, but Danny couldn't stop him as he started fiddling with the lock. When Steve said, "All right, guys, get in the back. Hug the cage," Danny wanted to pull him away and finish the job himself, because surely a blow right where half of Danny's liver was currently residing in a body that thought it was an invader was not the best idea.

It wouldn't do any good, though, and they didn't have time to argue. Besides, Steve knew what he was doing, and they only had one bullet, and therefore one shot. No pun intended.

And, of course, Steve being Steve, it worked.

***

"Would you just listen to me?" Danny said, as Steve drove toward HQ. "You got your ass kicked, you got your insides knocked around, and you blew up a lock right in front of your liver. You need to go get checked out."

Steve barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, knowing that it wouldn't make Danny any happier. "I know my body, Danny," Steve said. "I know I'm okay. I don't need a doctor to confirm it."

"No, no, you don't. You think you know but you're insane, so you don't really know what you think you know."

Steve glanced at him. "Was that English?"

"You're an asshole, you know that, right?"

Harsh words, but Steve knew the emotion behind them after so many years. "Danny, I took worse beatings in training. I'll be fine." Of course, he had been a lot younger and had all his original parts in training, but he knew himself. Even this new version with part of Danny inside him. He knew he was fine.

More importantly, Danny was okay. He was going home to his kids. And that was all that mattered in the end.

Danny wouldn't agree, so Steve kept that to himself as he listened to Danny rant and played along, enjoying every minute of it while it lasted. Steve wasn't stupid. If Danny went back to Rachel, retirement would most certainly be part of the deal. So Steve was going to enjoy this as long as he could, and then go from there.

If life had taught him anything, it was how to live with disappointment.

***


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind feedback! Trying to play catch up as fast as I can, and knowing people still want to read even though it's not "real time" has helped!

Danny watched the scenery whiz by as Steve sped down the road, oblivious to the statistics on the increase in car accidents when you exceed the speed limit. Not a surprise, really, not for someone who stared death in the face more times a day than most people did in a year and laughed at it. 

That Steve was still alive was a miracle, one helped along by a piece of Danny's liver, thank you very much. And Danny was tired of having his sacrifice shoved aside like it was nothing. Even if it was for the greater good and noble and all that bullshit, Danny would still like Steve to take half a second to think of less deathly ways to handle situations.

"Okay, what's with you?" Steve asked.

"What's with me?" Danny turned to glare at Steve. "You're asking what's with _me_?"

"Yes, that's what I am asking." 

Okay, well, he asked for it. "What's with me is I am wondering what's with you. Or, more specifically, what is the matter with you."

"You ask me that a lot, Danny. You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Well, considering I just watched you get blown off the roof of an exploding building and then a few minutes later dig a bullet out of your tac vest like it was nothing, maybe we can start there."

Steve looked at him as though Danny was being unreasonable. Which was so unreasonable that he almost wanted to point out the irony. "Danny, I wasn't blown off the building. It was a controlled fall."

"Oh, right, a controlled fall as you were being blown off." 

Steve took a deep breath and let it out, like he was the one who needed patience. "Yes, a controlled fall. And the tac vest did what it was supposed to do—stop a bullet." 

"A bullet that could just have easily hit any part of you not covered by a tac vest!"

"But it didn't." 

"This time."

Steve blinked. "This time?"

"Yes, this time." Danny twisted a little in his seat, hands flying as he said, "This time the bullet hit the tac vest. What happens when next time it hits your arm or your leg or your head, which, even though it is mostly empty, would still probably result in your death."

"I recognize that there is a slim chance that could happen, Danny, but I am trained—"

"Yeah, you're trained, all right. Trained to do the most insane thing your pea brain can think of."

"I'm trained to do my job."

Right, his job. Danny had the same job and he wasn't out there risking his life anywhere near as crazily as Steve. "There are other ways to do your job, Steve. Ways that don't involve a neon sign on your forehead that says 'Please kill me!'"

"I don't know where you got the idea that I have a death wish." 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe from the way you fling yourself head first into every possible deadly situation you can find like it's the latest ride at Six Flags?"

The phone rang, and Steve gave Danny one last look that Danny couldn't quite decipher before answering. Danny listened to Kono with half an ear, the rest of his attention focused on trying to figure out why his head was so fucked up that he still wanted Steve, despite the fact that Steve was doing his absolute best to die. 

***

Danny knew the case was hitting Steve hard—anything involving the Navy always did, and if it involved the Arizona then Steve's emotional involvement was off the chart. The look on his face as Danny approached Steve's office, though, was intense, even given the situation. 

When the soldier on the recording said, "Ensign Steven McGarrett," Danny got it. He was a little surprised to find out that Steve had never used any of his Navy contacts to find out what had happened to his grandfather, but then maybe he'd tried and there was no record. Maybe if they hadn't caught this case, he never would've known. 

Danny wasn't sure if that would've been better or worse. Of course Steve's grandfather, his namesake, was a self-sacrificing hero. Like Steve's dad, ultimately dying in the thankless, impossible fight to take down the Yakuza.

The McGarrett men, always tilting at windmills loaded with explosives.

Chin interrupted with an update on Campbell. When Chin left, Steve sat back in his chair, looking at the paused recording on the screen. "You know," Danny said, "if your grandfather were still alive, he'd be proud of you, Steve. Because you're just like him."

"Thanks," Steve said, his voice low. 

There was no denying the family resemblance, and a person would have to be crazy to love someone like that, but they'd have to be more crazy _not_ to love them _for_ it. Loving someone was one thing, though. Acting on it...that was a different thing entirely.

Being with Steve would be a death wish in its own way, because Steve would not live to see retirement, Danny was almost sure of that. And Danny would lose him, and it would hurt like hell. Part of him would never recover from the loss.

Problem was, he wasn't sure he had a choice in the matter anymore.

***

When the firefight was over, Danny looked around. He'd seen Steve go after Campbell, but he hadn't returned yet. Danny kept his gun in his hand and went in search.

It wasn't hard to follow the trail of the fight, not with knocked over food stands and a people-sized hole in a glass door. Danny stopped just inside the door, his eyes adjusting to the light for a second before he could clearly see the scene out of his worst nightmares.

Two figures sprawled on the ground, Campbell with a piece of rebar poking up through his chest—a sight that would have bothered Danny more if it hadn't been for Steve lying nearby, bloody and not moving. 

"Steve!"

As he rushed forward, Danny saw Steve moving, and his panic receded only a little. God only knew what kind of impact a fight this bad could've had on his liver, if it had been bad enough that Steve had just lain there, not coming back to check on the team.

Danny knelt down beside Steve as he struggled to sit up, finally managing it as Danny's hands moved to Steve's back. He felt whole, and his arms and legs and head could all move, so nothing seriously broken in that way, at least. 

"Everybody okay?" Steve asked, his voice hoarse.

"We're fine. The bad guys, not so much." Danny's hands moved gently along Steve's arms, assuring himself everything was in one piece. Danny wasn't sure whether to hug Steve or punch him for going off by himself, even as part of his brain knew it had to be done, and given Campbell's training, Steve had been the logical person to do it. "Can you stand up?" Danny asked.

"Yeah." 

He stood, with a little more leaning on Danny than was comforting. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah." 

Steve took a couple of steps away from Danny, wobbling a little at first, but more sure as he headed for the door. "Good," Danny said, "then you're walking yourself straight to the first ambulance that can take you to the hospital."

Steve stopped, turning to face Danny as Danny caught up with him. "I don't need a hospital."

"You will let the EMTs check you out and make that call."

"Danny, I—"

"Steve. This isn't up for discussion."

He fixed Steve with his most stern, 'you will eat your vegetables, child,' look, and after a moment Steve's face softened. "EMT it is, then," Steve said, waving a hand. "Lead the way."

God, this man was going to be the death of him, it was just a question of whether it would be quick, in a fight, or a long, slow death over his memory after he got himself killed. Falling for him was the most stupid thing Danny could've done. 

Falling for him didn't mean he had to compound the agony by acting on it, though. Why add to the pain? It was so much more sane to cut bait than to reel in a fish that could devour him whole when Steve inevitably died.

He could do it. He had to. 

***


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I had been catching up as fast as I could...and then I broke my hand. Hopefully I'll be able to write more soon, but it's pissed as hell at me for writing this much. But I couldn't get it out of my head, so I had to. :) Hope you enjoy!

Steve watched as Danny told the rest of the team the story about Charlie's attempt to decorate his room with crayons. Having heard the story that morning, Steve let the words wash over him, watching Danny's hands as they waved through the air, emphasizing various words. 

Danny had been extra attentive after finding Steve on the floor from fighting Campbell. For over a week, he'd called and checked in, or invited himself over to make sure Steve was okay. But then the visits had become more scarce, and Steve only had to look as far as Danny's increase in phone calls during the day to know why.

Rachel.

She'd started texting or calling occasionally during the day. First it had been about the kids, then she'd started in with the occasional complaint about Stan's lawyers. 

Funny how she hadn't complained about them every time she'd used them against Danny. 

Danny seemed to have forgotten all about that, though. And about how Rachel had kept Charlie a secret for years. But then, this was Danny. He could overlook a hell of a lot if he decided to. 

Though really, lying about your kid was a lot more than a hell of a lot. You'd have to be crazy to overlook that. 

Which was why he needed Steve to rescue him before Rachel trampled on his heart again. He'd decided that spending more time with Danny was the best way to start Operation Sanity (so named because 'Operation Save Danny from Himself' was too long). If Danny was with Steve, he wasn't with Rachel, and she didn't have time to cast her spell over him again.

And if that meant Steve got more Danny time, well, that was just a lucky side effect. 

"Which means," Danny was saying, "that now I get to spend the weekend decorating his room so he doesn't try to paint a race car or something." 

"Painting is kind of fun," Kono said.

"Oh good, are you volunteering to help?"

She stood up. "Sorry," she said. "I have a thing." She looked at her bare wrist. "Look at the time. Have a great weekend!" 

She hurried out, Chin and Grover making quick excuses and following suit. Danny looked at Steve, that smile that did nothing but confuse Steve's gut with the warmth in it on full display. "I suppose you have a thing, too?"

"Nope," Steve said, shaking his head. "I'm free. I can help."

Danny's smile melted into a frown. "Really? Just like that? No terms and conditions longer than an iTunes agreement?"

"Nope. Just tell me when to be there." 

The frown faded. "Okay," Danny said, sounding dubious for some reason, but not arguing the point. "See you at nine?" 

"Nine it is."

***

Danny was barefoot, his hair ruffled, when Steve showed up at 8:30. "This is not nine, Steven," he said, as he hurried into the living room. 

The teasing smile combined with the near straight-out-of-bed Danny was enough to cause Steve to need a second to find words. "Well, if we're going to start at nine, I figured we needed breakfast first." Steve held out the box of malasadas.

"You are forgiven for the early wake up call," Danny said, taking the box. "But what are you going to eat for breakfast?"

Steve laughed as he followed Danny through to the kitchen. "I had a protein shake before I left the house."

"Of course you did." 

Danny put the box on the counter and opened it, grabbing one of the malasadas and taking a bite. The look on his face was like porn, and Steve shifted, focusing on anything that would keep his body from showing just how much he liked that look.

"What's with the face?" Danny asked.

Steve took a malasada, shrugging before he bit into it to avoid having to speak. His voice was more reliable by the time he swallowed. "What face?" 

Danny just shook his head, turning to the coffee maker. "Clearly I just need some caffeine. You want some?"

"Yeah," Steve said, tearing his eyes away from Danny's ass in those jeans.

It was going to be a long day.

***

Steve was sorting the pieces of Charlie's bed when Danny came back from answering the door. "Looks like you're gonna get your wish after all," Danny said.

Steve had a lot of wishes. "What wish is that?" 

"You get to put the bed together," Danny said. "My old Captain is at the door."

"Tanaka?" Steve asked.

Danny blinked, then shook his head. "I forgot, you asked him for my hand instead of asking me before you carried me off to your cave." 

Steve laughed. "He retired, so it's not like he's here to take you back." Because he couldn't have Danny, no matter what he wanted.

"He's here only to take me back in time," Danny said. "Makino, the witness I thought had died on my last case before you crashed into my life? Tanaka thinks he's not so dead." 

"Why?"

"Some news story. I'm going up to Haleiwa with him to check it out, see if it's legit."

"You want some back up?"

Danny shook his head. "I think I can handle a guy who's been in a coma for seven years. Besides, Charlie still needs his room, so you're not getting out of the hard work that easily."

As if Steve thought it was hard, or even work, when he knew how excited Charlie would be when he saw it. "Okay, call if you need anything, though?"

"Yeah." 

Danny turned to go, looking back over his shoulder as Steve called his name. "Which trash can did you put the instructions in?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Bathroom," he said. "Have fun digging them out. See you later." 

"Be careful," Steve said, because he couldn't stop himself. Much like he couldn't stop himself from staring after Danny until he was gone. 

And if he followed Danny down the hallway just a little, it was only because he needed to go to the bathroom to rescue the instructions.

***

The bed was ridiculously easy to put together, if you followed the instructions. In no time, Steve was putting the last screw in. He stood up, admiring his handiwork as his phone rang, Danny's face on the screen. 

Steve answered quickly. "Hey, guess what. I'm looking at a fully assembled Mach Five."

"That-that-that's great." The panic in Danny's voice stopped Steve in his tracks. "Right now," Danny continued, "I have a situation. Someone's trying to kill my witness, Makino."

Kill? He'd just gone to see a guy in a coma. "Wait, wait, wait," Steve said. "What are you talking about?" 

"I-I don't know what's happening, okay? This whole place is on lockdown right now. We need to move this guy. A guard has been killed or something. I don't know. I don't know. I could use some backup. HPD's twenty minutes out, so please, if you could get here that would be great." 

The words were rushed, a level of panic that Steve rarely heard from Danny. "Okay," Steve said quickly. "Okay. I'm on the way."

"Don't listen to anything I said over the years about driving like a sane person. Just get here as fast as you can, okay?"

Steve didn't even bother to respond, he just hung up as he ran for the truck. 

***

Steve sped down the road toward the Kahuku Station, checking his watch. He was close, and Danny should be there already. That Danny hadn't called yet was a little worrying, but he was Danny. He would survive. He had to. 

His phone rang, and he glanced down to see Danny on the screen before answering. "Hey, buddy, listen, I'm almost at the precinct. You there yet?"

"No, not exactly. We got a little sidetracked. We made it about four miles, and now I'm hunkered down in some house."

"Okay. What happened to going to the station?"

"Uh, car trouble."

Car trouble? "Fine. Whatever. What's the address?"

"I don't know the address. It says 'five' on the mailbox."

Five? He was supposed to find Danny in an 'about four mile' radius of the center in some house with a five on the mailbox? "You don't know where you are?"

"It's a house, Steve. It's a house. I didn't see a street sign, there's trees all over the place, there's a driveway, nice grass out front, it's a house."

Steve knew that tone. That was the tone that said Danny was staring at the worst case scenario and not seeing anything else. "Relax. Just relax, all right? We're tracking your phone. Jerry." He didn't answer immediately. "Jerry, you there? Can you get a fix on the location?"

"Negative," Jerry said through the comms. "The signal's not strong enough." 

Seriously? "Well, okay, can you triangulate it?" 

"He's not close to any cell towers. The best I can give you is a half-mile radius." Which was still better than his current situation. "You'll be in the area in about ten minutes," Jerry said.

"Ten minutes?" Danny said. "I could be dead in ten minutes."

Like there was a chance in hell Steve was gonna let that happen? "Just hang tight, buddy, okay?" Steve said in the calmest voice he could manage. "Chin, Kono and Grover have got a lead on who's behind this, and they're moving in now, okay?" 

"Let's hope they move fast and get the guy to call it off," Danny said. "But on the chance they don't, I gotta go get ready for what's coming." 

Steve didn't like the finality in Danny's tone, but he couldn't exactly keep him on the line when he could be setting up defenses. "Just hang tight," Steve said again. "I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Yeah." 

So many words crowded in Steve's throat, trying to get out, but all he said was, "Be careful."

"Don't worry," Danny said, and there was a little of that bravado Steve had been hoping for. "I'm not you." 

The line went dead, and Steve pressed the gas pedal harder into the floor like it might make him go faster.

***

"Okay," Jerry said through the comms, "you're in the area where Danny is." 

Steve hit the button on his phone to call Danny back. Danny answered almost immediately. "Tell me you're close."

"Yeah, I am close, buddy," Steve said, "but I'm gonna need help finding this place." 

Before Danny could answer, Steve heard gunfire through the phone. "Danny! Danny!" No reply, just more gunfire. "Danny, you there?" 

He heard someone yell in the background before Danny said, "Follow the gunshots!"

"Copy that."

The line went dead and Steve rolled the window down. He could hear the echo of gunfire, and drove in the direction it should be coming from as fast as the truck would go. He could see the smoke from the gunfight when suddenly the sounds stopped. 

Steve stomped the gas harder, despite it being all the way to the floor, and saw two men with guns on their way into a house full of holes. He had just enough time to blast the horn to warn Danny, even though he knew Danny would likely be as far from the door as possible, but he wanted to make sure Danny stayed put. 

The impact of hitting the house was bone jarring, but Steve kept his eyes on the gunmen. He trained his gun on the one on the hood of the truck, just in case, until he was sure the guy wasn't moving, then checked under the truck to see the second one wasn't going anywhere either. 

"Danny?" Steve called out, still covering the guy on the hood of the truck.

"Uh-huh."

Steve looked over his shoulder to see Danny, alive and all in one piece, not even a scratch, and felt that band around his lungs loosen a little.

Tanaka said, "Wow. You must be Steve." 

"I am," Steve said, even though he'd met the guy. It had been a lifetime ago, or so it seemed when Steve thought about life before Danny. "Everybody all right?"

"No," said the nurse, "but we're alive."

"Thank you for the timely intervention," Tanaka said. "It was getting pretty bleak there."

"Don't thank him," Danny said, "because this could've been an accident."

Really? After all this? Steve gave Danny a look before turning to the others. "You're welcome." 

Steve shook their hands before turning to Danny. "You okay?" Steve asked, even though he looked fine. You never knew with Danny.

"Yeah, I'm good. This house, on the other hand, is going to need a lot of work." 

"Better the house than you," Steve said, laying a hand on Danny's shoulder.

He felt more than heard Danny's soft laugh. "Can't argue with that." 

"Something you can't argue with, that's a first."

Danny rolled his eyes, and Steve felt the shoulder under his hand start to slope a little, the first sign that Danny was starting to relax a little. 

Steve dropped his hand before it could get too comfortable. "Your witness okay?" 

"Yeah. Jenny was pretty amazing. Stuck with him through all this," Danny said, waving a hand, "and kept him alive." 

Steve looked over to the back of the house, where Jenny was tending to her patient. "Congratulations," Steve said softly, turning back to Danny. "You got him to safety." 

"Yeah, well, it's kind of my fault he was in danger to begin with, so...."

"No, it was Mendez."

Danny shook his head and waved a hand. It was obvious there was more to the story, but just as obvious, at least to Steve, that Danny didn't want to go into it now, so Steve let it go.

Danny looked at his watch. "How far along did you get on the room?" he asked. 

"I finished the walls and the bed. Why?"

"We only have a few hours before I have to pick up Charlie. That doesn't leave much time."

He looked over at the witness, obviously torn. Steve put his hand back on Danny's shoulder. "I'll finish the room and pick Charlie up," Steve said softly. "You make sure your witness gets back safely."

Danny nodded, meeting Steve's eyes. "Thanks." 

"Of course." 

***

Steve flipped aimlessly through the channels on Danny's TV, finding nothing of interest. Not that he was going to watch anyway, not when he had it muted to avoid waking Charlie, but he at least wanted the visual noise until Danny got home. 

He landed on Sports Center before he dropped the remote on the coffee table and sunk back into the couch. He'd had fun with Charlie, helping him put all his stuff where he wanted it on the shelves and make the finishing touches. He was such a great kid, and it killed Steve sometimes that he'd been denied his real father for years, and that Danny had been denied the first few years of his son's life.

Apparently it killed Steve a lot more than it did Danny, if he was suddenly at Rachel's beck and call again. 

But no, Danny was always going to have that ideal of the perfect little family, and he'd do a hell of a lot of revisionist history in his own head to get there. Which was why Steve had to move forward with Operation Sanity. 

He heard the Camaro pull up. A moment later, the door opened, and Steve tilted his head back to look at Danny upside down. "Hey."

Danny's smile was tired, but real. "Hey. Charlie go to sleep?"

"Yeah, after five races."

"Races?"

Steve shook his head. "He can tell you about them tomorrow. How's Makino?"

He watched as Danny walked around the couch to sit down, the weight pulling Steve a little closer to Danny, their hips touching when they'd settled. "Under the watchful eye of HPD," Danny said. "I didn't want to leave, but I needed to be here."

"You did everything you could, Danny. Now and back then."

Danny shook his head, staring down at his hands. "I lost him seven years ago."

"No, Mendez took him seven years ago."

"Because I let him." Danny looked up, eyes meeting Steve's. "He called me. He wanted to talk. And I was too busy fighting with Rachel to pick up the phone in time. By the time I did, he'd hung up. And by the time I traced the call and tracked him down, Mendez had him."

"That's not your fault." 

His laugh held no humor. "Yeah, so I've been told."

But he didn't believe it. "So when are you gonna stop blaming yourself, then?"

Danny shrugged. "Life is weird, you know?" he said, his gaze shifting to some point over Steve's shoulder. Or in the past, Steve wasn't sure. "If I hadn't lost Makino, if I'd picked up the phone, Tanaka never would've sent me to your house to look into John's death. And I'd never have met you."

"No," Steve said, "we'd have met. I'm sure of it." Because he couldn't imagine a reality in which he and Danny weren't...well, them. Whatever they were. "Some things are meant to be." 

One corner of Danny's mouth turned up just enough for Steve to notice as he looked up at Steve through his lashes. "That's deep." 

"Yeah, well...." Steve took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he decided a change of topic was in order before he blurted out all sorts of things Danny didn't need to know. "By the way, I told Charlie how you built the bed for him all by yourself."

"Lying to my son?" Danny said. "Really?" Despite the words, he was smiling, his eyes warm.

"He should know how much you care about him," Steve said. "That's all." 

"Thanks." 

The word was heartfelt, and Steve had to swallow all those words that were threatening to come out again. "For lying to Charlie?"

"No, jerk," Danny said, tapping Steve on the arm with the back of his hand, leaving a tingling feeling on Steve's bicep at the momentary touch. "Just...thank you."

"For what?" 

Danny shrugged, like he wasn't even sure himself. Or maybe he didn't have the words, Steve didn't know. But he did know what a close call it had been that day, and how many close calls they'd had over the years, and all without acting on this thing between them, other than that one amazing, earth-shattering kiss. 

Dangerous thoughts to have when Danny was this close, but then Danny's tongue snaked out, wetting his lips, as his eyes dropped to Steve's mouth. Danny leaned in slowly and Steve followed, that band back around his lungs, which was good, because it was the only thing keeping his heart from beating out of his chest. 

Danny's eyes were a blur this close, and Steve's eyelids were halfway closed when he heard the buzzing. It pulled him out of his trance, and Danny, too, as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Steve saw Rachel's name a second before Danny hit the accept button and put the phone to his ear. 

Steve stood, blowing out a long breath as he headed for the door and waved to Danny. Danny held up a finger, but Steve shook his head, mouthing, 'I have to go.' 

He didn't look back again, didn't give Danny a chance to try to stop him, didn't even pause until he was on the other side of the closed door. He got into the truck and leaned on the steering wheel for a moment, getting his stomach under control.

The sudden nausea was nothing—the leftover shrimp he'd had for dinner had probably been a little off. That was all. He'd take something when he got home, and by morning, he'd be fine, like this never happened at all.

***


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broken hand was not prepared for this much writing, but it survived. Hope you enjoy!

Danny's cell phone woke him just after 7:30, robbing him of the half an hour or so he might've had before Charlie was up, dragging him out to whatever indulgence Danny's parents had planned for their grandkids today. He knew before he looked who it had to be, even as he wondered why Steve was up at 1:30 in the morning. 

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Danny asked as he put the phone to his ear.

He had just enough time to tell that Steve was in the truck on the speaker phone before Steve said, "Actually, I'm on my way to the airport." 

Danny sat up, the covers falling to his lap. "What's your mother done now?"

"Not everything is about her," Steve said. "The CIA got in touch and said an old source at Gitmo had intel, but he'd only speak to me. No one else. And I know how you feel about me leaving the country without calling."

Danny went back over that last bit. "The CIA said a source suddenly needs you at Gitmo after you've been out of intel all this time?" he asked. "Are you sure this isn't just the CIA trying to kill you again?"

He could almost hear the eyeroll as Steve said, "The CIA hasn't tried to kill either of us for years, Danny."

"That may be, but they've never really been that happy with us, either. And you did break into a black site and free a prisoner...."

"I promise you, this is solid, all right?"

"How can you be sure?"

"The source," Steve said. "No one would think to use Naser Salaam to lure me anywhere."

Danny didn't know who Salaam was, but Steve was probably right. That didn't mean Danny wasn't going to worry that it was a trap, any more than it meant Steve shouldn't keep his guard up. "If you say so," Danny said finally. "Do you have backup?" 

"What possible need could I have for backup at Gitmo, Danny?"

"You're you. You can find ways to need backup going to the bathroom." 

Steve laughed. "I'll let you know what I find out, all right? How was your mom's birthday party?"

"Other than the fact that she kept insisting she was fifty, not sixty? Great," Danny said. "At least no one bought a sports car. And she loved your present, by the way."

"Yeah, I got a thank you text."

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it again, searching for words that didn't sound ridiculous. "You text with my mom?" he said, after a moment.

"Sometimes. Why?"

"No reason," Danny said, because he couldn't put a stop to it, and he didn't want to have any idea what kind of conversation Steve and his mom might have. In fact, he was very much hoping he could forget he knew that they were in communication in any way. 

God help him if Steve was talking to Bridget, too. 

Danny heard the truck slow down and stop. "I gotta go," Steve said, as the truck engine died, the sudden silence making Steve's voice sound more intimate. 

"Be careful."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry." 

Yeah, like that was going to happen. "Who, me?"

Steve's soft laugh sent a little shiver through Danny's ear and down his back. "I'll talk to you soon," Steve said, before the line went dead. 

Danny put the phone back on the nightstand and ran a hand through his hair. He'd thought things with Steve might be weird after their latest near kiss, but Steve had been almost normal. The only change had been Steve spending a little less time with Danny. He kept claiming to be tired, but Danny wasn't quite sure he was buying that. Steve didn't get tired. 

Then again, Danny had been spending a little more time helping Rachel, so maybe Steve was just being Steve and giving Danny his space to do whatever he needed to do. What that was, Danny still didn't know. Rachel had been calling more lately and maybe, just maybe, Danny hadn't entirely curtailed it in part because it created a nice little buffer between him and Steve without Danny having to say a word. 

_Coward,_ his inner Bridget voice said. He told it to shut up—partly because he didn't want to hear it, and partly because he was half-convinced that Bridget could also hear it, and she'd know what was going on. 

Not that she hadn't been needling him since he got home, to the point that his mother was giving him some very pointed looks that made Danny think she knew more than she let on. He just hoped she would leave it alone, at least.

The last thing he needed was both her and Bridget ganging up on him. If they had their way, he'd be married to Steve before Christmas. And that was never going to happen. Couldn't happen, for so many reasons that he was going to forget he ever even had that thought. 

***

Danny knew how long the flight was to Cuba, had an idea how long it would probably take for Steve to actually get in to see Salaam and then get back to where he could actually call. That didn't meant hadn't started checking his watch a lot earlier than was realistic, despite the knowing looks from Bridget.

His phone rang at last. Danny glanced at the screen to see Steve's face before he left the family room for the seclusion of the other side of the house. "So, not dead, then?" Danny said as he answered.

"Nope, very much alive and waiting for my plane to go home." 

"Glad to hear it. Salaam give you anything?"

"I think so." Danny heard muffled voices in the background, then a door before it got quieter. Steve lowered his voice, his mouth clearly closer to the phone as he said, "Salaam said there's going to be an attack on Oahu."

Which was not what Danny was expecting. "Oahu? That's not exactly a high value target in the grand scheme of things." 

"Yeah, it doesn't make a lot of sense." 

"But you believe him." 

"I do." 

The words were quick, no hesitation, and Danny trusts Steve's gut, even though the information seems unlikely at best. "You can't not look into it, then." 

"Yeah, we have to see if it's credible."

"What did he give you?"

"Just that it was on Oahu, and two words. Cane Allah." 

Not much intel for someone who'd flown all that way. "That's it? Nothing else?" 

"No. He wouldn't give up who told him or anything else about it except that."

"So why bring you all that way just for that?" 

"Said it was to repay me the kindness I'd shown him ten years ago. He wanted to give me time to get my family off the island." 

Danny still thought it was a little odd. But he trusted Steve. "So not a lot to go on."

"No, but it's something, at least," Steve said. "At least you have Grace and Charlie off island."

"Yeah, maybe you should hop a plane to Jersey instead of Hawaii and let my liver sit this one out." 

He was kidding, of course, even though part of him would much rather Steve come to Jersey and not be on Oahu if there was going to be an attack. But he also knew that Steve, along with the rest of their team, was the best chance Oahu has if there really was going to be an attack.

"Wish I could, but I have to get back." Danny heard voices in the background again before Steve continued, "Speaking of which, my plane is boarding. I gotta go."

"Okay. Don't get blown up."

Steve laughed softly. "I'll do my best,' he said before he hung up.

Danny pushed the phone back into his pocket and turned to find Bridget at the door. "'Don't get blown up'?" she said. "I take it Steve is acting out against you leaving, as usual?"

"No, he finds daily ways to do that whether I’m there or not." 

"But he makes sure you know all about it when you're here."

Danny sighed. "I can't do this right now, Bridget."

"Why, because you think you'll get out of town without having this conversation if you put it off long enough?"

"No." Danny kept his voice low so no one else would hear. "Because Steve's on his way back to hunt down a terrorist threat, and I'm not there to make sure he doesn't die. And I have to pretend like I'm not worried about indestructible Uncle Steve for my kids, so I can't talk about this right now." 

"That's kind of my point, Danny. You're in so deep that you can't even talk about it. For you, it doesn't get much deeper." 

"Auntie Bridget!" Charlie's voice came from the hallway a second before he appeared in the doorway. "Look!" 

Charlie ran up to show Bridget the drawing he'd done for her, and Danny sidestepped Charlie, ruffling his hair on his way out of the room before Bridget could corner him again.

***

Danny managed to hold off checking in until he'd finished putting Charlie to bed, but he couldn't take it any longer. He texted Steve a quick, _Still alive?_

His phone rang a moment later, Steve on the other end. 

"Yes, I'm still alive," Steve said. "Unfortunately, though, the threat is real."

Danny ignored the urge to get on the next flight to Honolulu. "What's the target?" 

"We don't know yet. All we know is that we think it's going to be around 6:20 tonight." 

Danny checked his watch and did the math. "That doesn't leave you much time." 

"I know." Steve didn't sound happy about it. "But we know who is behind it, and we're tracking his burner phone." 

"Good." Danny didn't want to hang up, even though he knew Steve needed to focus. "Listen, just...don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"I never do."

"You never do? Oh, no, my friend, you _always_ do. I have a running list of all the stupid things you do."

Humor laced Steve's voice as he replied, "Yeah, you'll have to give me a rundown of what you consider stupid sometime." 

"You want it chronologically or alphabetically?"

"Surprise me," Steve said. "Look, I gotta go. Tell Grace and Charlie...um, just tell them I said hi, okay?"

Danny knew what Steve was thinking, knew that neither one of them could address the two ton elephant on the phone line. It was bad luck, and it wasn't who they were. Still, he had to clear his throat before he could answer. "Yeah, I'll tell them," Danny said softly.

"Thanks. I'll text when I know more, okay?"

"I'll be up for a while," Danny said quickly. "Still on island time. Call if you want."

"Okay. Later, Danno."

"Later."

***

Danny was alternately grateful and annoyed that his family tended to be night owls. He'd gone out onto the deck behind the house around 11:30 to stare at his phone and wait for word without Bridget's stare, but he could still hear her and his parents in the family room, the TV down low in deference to the sleeping kids upstairs. 

It was well after midnight before Danny got a text from Steve that just said, _Attack averted. All clear. Call later._

Danny breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived, as a text soon followed from Kono that read, _McG scaled a building and vaporized a terrorist with a grenade launcher!_

Just the thought of it took five years off Danny's life. 

By the time Steve called, Danny had worked his way past pissed off and on to accepting about Steve's stupidity. He still answered the phone with, "A grenade launcher, Steven? You couldn't use a gun like a normal person?"

"He knocked my gun out of my hand, Danny, and the grenade launcher was the closest thing. What was I supposed to do?"

Whatever it took to survive, which was why Danny had worked his way up to accepting. "I'm just glad it worked out," Danny said. "Everybody's okay?"

"Yeah, even the guy they tried to pin it on."

"What?"

"The guy we were chasing ended up being set up to look like the guilty party."

Since when did terrorists try to hide their actions like that? "I'm not following."

"I know, it makes no sense."

Danny knew that tone, and he knew this wouldn't be the end of it. "I'm just glad it worked out and there's an island for us to come back to." 

"Me, too." 

Steve sounded tired. But then, he'd flown to Cuba and back, and then immediately spent the whole day chasing down a terrorist. Though, by Steve standards, that was a normal Friday.

"So how badly did you get hurt this time?" Danny asked.

"I didn't. I mean, a few bruises from the fight, but nothing that won't go away."

Something in Steve's voice sounded off, but Danny chalked it up to the tiredness. Steve might not want to admit he was human, but Danny had volumes of evidence to prove he was. He just couldn't get Steve to realize it. 

"Good thing we stocked up on ice packs, huh?"

Steve laughed softly. "Yeah, I might actually use one or two of them."

Okay, now Danny was worried—he usually had to all but put the ice pack on Steve himself to get him to even consider them. "There's a first. I thought I was going to have to fly home just to make you use them."

"Maybe I'm learning my lessons."

"Another first," Danny teased.

"You're back Sunday, right?"

As if Steve didn't have it memorized and noted on his calendar, Danny was sure. "Yeah. Don't forget to pick us up." 

Steve scoffed at the thought. "Dinner on the way home?"

Danny knew the kids would be tired, but something in Steve's voice, combined with Danny's need to see with his own eyes that Steve was okay, made him agree. "Sure. Grace is already moaning about missing Side Street." 

"Good." 

And that tone made it worth the fight Danny would have to get the kids to sleep on the plane so they'd be awake for dinner. Not that it mattered—they loved Steve. As soon as they saw him, it'd be at least an hour before they finished telling all the stories from their trip, and another two before Danny could get them to bed. 

He heard Steve yawn, even though it wasn't that late in Hawaii. "You should go get some sleep," Danny said. "When's the last time you slept in an actual bed?"

Steve thought for a moment. "Tuesday?"

"Right, to bed with you." Danny winced as he realized how that sounded, his body immediately reminding him how on board it would be with that idea. 

Steve cleared his throat. "I got a thing," he said, his voice still husky. "But then I'll sleep." 

Danny counted to five on a long breath. "Just make sure you do sleep," he said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, Danno."

"Night."

He hung up the phone, looking at the screen until Steve's picture disappeared. Danny heard the door to the deck slide open, then closed again. 

"You really have a bad habit of eavesdropping, Bridget." 

"Then you really shouldn't have conversations outside a screen door with me on the other side, Danny."

He stared out into the back yard as she sat down beside him. He managed to ignore her right up until he heard her take a breath to speak. "Save it," he said, sinking down in his chair and rubbing his eyes. "Just...whatever you're about to say, just don't. Okay?"

"Danny—"

"No." He shifted in his chair to meet her gaze. "Do you know how many near-death experiences Steve has had since I met him? Huh? Because I can tell you. Twenty-two. And that's just the big ones, the ones that were this close," Danny said, holding his thumb and index finger so close together that they almost touched. "That's not counting the ones that were less serious—and believe me, the mere fact that I have a rating system for them should tell you something."

"It tells me that you care," Bridget said. "A whole hell of a lot."

"Of course I do." Danny realized how loud he'd gotten and lowered his voice—the last thing he needed was for his mother to hear and come join in on this one. "I gave the man a vital organ, Bridget. Of course I care."

"Then what—"

"Sometimes," Danny said, pushing himself out of his chair, "caring isn't enough." He turned toward the door. "I'm going to bed. Night."

She didn't follow as he went into the house.

***

Despite the late night, Danny woke at 7:30. While having an eastern facing room had been great when he had to get up for high school, it kind of sucked now that he was an adult technically on vacation. Not that it mattered much—Charlie would be bounding into the room soon anyway. 

Danny reached for his phone to find a text from Steve somewhere in the middle of the night. _Call when you get this. Don't worry about time._

So something was so urgent that it was okay to interrupt Steve's sleep, but not Danny's? Seriously, the man was insane. He was not, however, given to sending texts like that without good reason, so Danny hit the button to call.

It took a few rings, but Steve answered, his sleepy midnight voice going straight to Danny's dick. 

"Hey," Danny said, swallowing down his reaction. "Sorry to wake you, but you said to call as soon as I was up."

"Yeah." He could hear Steve rolling over in bed, and the mental image was really doing nothing to help Danny's situation. "Listen, I wanted to give you a heads up as soon as I could."

"Tell me you're not going off to Russia to rescue your mother from a gulag."

"Not going to—where do you come up with this stuff?" 

"You're going to tell me that's outside of the realm of possible messages you might have for me? Really?"

Steve was silent for a long moment. "Anyway," Steve said, conceding the point to Danny just by virtue of sidestepping it, "I wanted you to be on alert."

That quelled Danny's erection, as he sat up in bed. "Alert? For what?"

"That terrorist attack we took down yesterday? It wasn't radical Islamists."

Okay, the possibility that those were words he _didn't_ want to hear at some point about a crime had never actually crossed his mind. "Who was it?"

"Apparently it was a rogue faction inside the U.S. government." 

Danny pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, then pinched himself, but yeah, it hurt. He put the phone back to his ear. "I'm sorry, did you just say our own government tried to attack Oahu?"

"More or less, yeah." 

Suddenly Danny was really grateful that Jerry's paranoia had led to the encrypted app they used for all their communications on their cell phones. "You're going to need to explain that one."

"I wish I could, but that's all I've got right now, sorry. I just figured you're the closest person to DC right now, and we foiled their plan, so...."

"So we should get on a plane now before they know we're here?"

Steve was silent long enough that Danny knew that's what Steve wanted to say. "No," he said, though, after a moment. "You should stay. Changing plans might draw attention to you." 

"So would you hopping the next flight to Jersey."

"I know." 

The way he said it confirmed what Danny already knew—Steve had already considered that option and come to the same conclusion. "Just...be on the lookout until you're back." 

"And even after I'm back."

"After you're back, you'll have more protection here."

'More' meaning Danny had some, and he wondered just what favor Steve might've called in to have someone watching over him by now. "More?"

"Hm?"

Yeah, Danny wasn't buying that, but he also wasn't going to push the issue, not right now. "Okay," Danny said. "I'll keep an eye out until we get back tomorrow." 

"Good. Be careful. Let me know if you see anything suspicious."

"Yeah. You go back to sleep."

"Already halfway there. Night." 

"Good night." 

Danny hung up the phone and put it back on the nightstand, resisting the urge to get up and look out the window. 

He'd be looking over his shoulder non-stop soon enough. 

***

Danny was finishing up packing Sunday morning when Bridget came into his room. "Hey," she said, leaning against his bed. 

"Come to lecture me before I go?" Danny asked, trying to make the words lighter than they felt.

"Danny...you know I just want what's best for you." 

He closed his suitcase before looking her in the eye. "And you seem to have a lot of opinions on that."

He could tell she was choosing her words carefully, which was unlike her. "I'm sorry, okay, it's just...look. You couldn't sit back and watch me make a stupid mistake with Spencer, right?"

Danny couldn't argue that. "No, I couldn't."

"Well, I can't watch you make two stupid mistakes."

"Bridget—"

"No, Danny, listen to me. I've seen every version of you with Rachel, and I've watched it implode twice. I get what it's like, wanting what you had when it was new—you think I don't, after what I've been through this year?"

Considering she was living with his parents and not her husband, yeah, she probably did. "Yeah. I guess you do."

"But you can't go back. And that includes trying to go back to go forward. You don't get do overs in life." 

"Rachel and I are not you and Ted," Danny said.

She shook her head. "No, you're not. But you're as different now from where you started as Ted and I are. But there's something you have that I don't," Bridget said. "Steve."

"I don't have Steve." 

"You do, Danny. You just have to see it."

"You don't know what you're talking about." 

Bridget took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I get that you are scared," she said carefully. "And I get he is, too." 

"Please, Steve's not scared of anything. The guy scaled a building to shoot a terrorist with a grenade launcher."

"Which shows you just how scared he is of what the two of you have."

"We don't have anything." 

It was a lie, and Bridget knew it. "You do. I've seen it. And I can tell you know it, too, so if you're not going to stop lying to me, at least stop lying to yourself." 

Danny looked at her for a long moment before dropping down onto the bed beside his suitcase. "Maybe we do," he said finally. "But I'll be damned if I know what to do about it. Or if I even should."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because he's going to get himself killed, and I don't know if I can handle the fallout if we...." He couldn't even finish the sentence.

Her eyes were kind as she said, "And he's probably sitting there saying the same thing to himself about you." 

Danny hadn't thought about it like that. He was right there by Steve's side for most of his stunts. Wasn't that why he was thinking about retirement, so his kids didn't have to worry about that? But he hadn't thought about what the loss would be like for Steve if something happened to Danny. 

The way Steve constantly tried to protect Danny suddenly looked different from this viewpoint. He knew Steve wanted to send Danny home to his kids, didn't want Grace and Charlie to have the same experience Steve had. But it had the added bonus of Steve, who'd lost pretty much everyone he ever really cared deeply about, not losing Danny, either. He'd give up his life in a second if it meant Danny survived. 

"Fuck."

"So ask yourself this," Bridget said quietly. "Would it hurt any less if something happened to him now than it would if the two of you got together?"

Danny thought about all the times Steve had been in danger and there had been nothing Danny could do but wait. About how he'd sat there waiting for Steve's call the other night, unable to focus on anything else.

About landing that fucking plane and then still having to wait for news on if Steve would live or die. About waking up from the transplant almost afraid to ask if it had been enough, if he'd been able to keep Steve there, with him. 

"No," Danny said, shaking his head slowly. "It wouldn't." 

Bridget pushed the suitcase out of the way and sat down on the bed, her hand warm on Danny's shoulder. "So then why are you fighting it?" 

He pulled out every excuse he'd used in his head for months—years, if he was being honest, which, apparently it was long past time for him to do. None of them was good enough, save one. "Because Steve is."

"And how long do you think he'd last if you pushed?"

"You don't know Steve. He's stubborn."

"Danny."

He got what she was saying. Steve was terrified of commitment because he was terrified of loss. Anyone who'd been through what he had would be. Danny wasn't sure anything he could say would be enough.

But he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he should get up the nerve to try.

"I'll think about it," he said.

"Danny—"

"Bridget, I said I'd think about it. I'm not...look, I'm not disagreeing with what you're saying. And I see your point. But you have to see what would happen if I couldn't convince Steve to take the chance. We'd both lose it all, right then and there. I have to be careful about this."

"You should just talk to him."

"Maybe. If I find the right time for it." They'd had some major breakthroughs in their relationship with conversations in the past, but it had taken extreme circumstances to make it work. "I'm not saying I won't," Danny said. "But you have to trust that I know him well enough to choose my timing."

She studied him for a long moment before she nodded. "You know I'm not going to let up on this, right?"

"Please. I know you."

"Good." 

She stood, and he grabbed her arm, pulling himself up as well. "Thank you," he said, giving her a hug.

"That's what family does, right?" she replied, as she pulled back, giving him a smile. "Show you when you're being an idiot?"

"Yeah, that's what family does."

Now he just had to figure out how to do that for Steve.

***


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last coda! There will be an epilogue, however, so I'll save all my final notes for that. Hope you enjoy this despite the distance from the actual finale. I'm gonna go ice my broken hand now... :)

Steve leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. The nausea had subsided somewhat now that he'd thrown up, but the smell of the toilet right by his knees threatened to bring it back. 

In retrospect, coffee and toast probably hadn't been the best idea, but then nothing much set well on his stomach recently, so he was out of ideas.

He'd put it down to a stomach bug for days. But it hadn't hit anyone else on the team, and it had gone on a little longer than any bug he'd had in the past. Granted, he didn't heal as quickly since the transplant, and he'd definitely seen a difference in his fighting of late that showed he wasn't quite his old self yet. Some people had gotten the drop on him who never would have before. 

The fights had also left him exhausted, drained, and, over the last few days, sick. 

He'd put it down to the transplant, and he still might be right. But this hadn't been in the list of expected side effects. And it had gone on long enough.

Time to man up, go to the doctor and find out. 

***

Steve made the appointment, and made up his mind that he wouldn't tell Danny what was going on until he knew more. It would only worry Danny, and Steve had done enough of that. 

He made it to the first appointment, which ended up just being tests, and the second set of tests as well with Danny none the wiser. Apparently hiding it from Danny was easy when Danny was so focused on helping Rachel. Annoyingly easy.

More annoying was how Danny was suddenly devoting entirely too much time to the woman who would still be happily married to her rich husband and denying Danny the knowledge that he even had a son if it weren't for Charlie's illness.

He took great care not to let on to Danny just how annoying that was, though. 

Not that Danny hadn't still been attentive to Steve since he'd gotten back from Jersey, at least when he was around. He'd also spent a lot more time than usual looking at Steve, or at least it felt that way.

Then again, maybe Steve was just hyper aware of Danny's attention now that Steve had something to hide. He didn't want to risk Danny asking questions before Steve had any answers to give. 

He was especially worried that Danny would insist on going to the doctor's visits if he knew.

And if something was wrong, if Steve had managed to fuck up his liver—the liver Danny had been kind enough to give him—by ignoring Danny's nagging, then Steve should maybe start showing his gratitude and be a little nicer to Danny, just in case. 

Because of all the legacies of his life, the last one he needed was Danny thinking he hadn't cared. If the worst happened, then Danny had to look back and know that Steve had absolutely cared. Definitely more than he'd said outright, possibly more than he should, and probably more than he showed. 

The last one, at least, he could do something about. 

He would never admit to the increase in visits to sites about restaurant startups, if only because it would just fan the flames of Danny's retirement ideas. But if Danny did follow through, Steve was going to be right there to help. 

Which was how the chef's hat happened. 

He was sure his internet history had been the cause of the ad, but he didn't care. Even if Danny didn't leave Five-0, the hat would indulge his fantasy of becoming a chef. Maybe even curtail his need to actually become one.

Also, there was the slight chance that the mental image Steve had of Danny in the hat gave way to some kitchen fantasies that had nothing to do with food. 

Well, almost nothing.

But the hat would show Danny that, whatever Steve might say, he had Steve's full support. It wasn't like they spent a lot of time saying what they actually meant to each other anyway—near-death situations and late-night stakeouts aside. They'd always been more about actions. So whatever Steve actually said, Danny would get how he really felt when he saw the hat. 

***

The morning of the doctor's appointment where he was supposed to get answers, Steve got dressed with the same feeling in his gut that he'd had for room inspections early on in his Navy career. The inevitable dread of watching the inspection, knowing they'd find something he'd have to pay for, had eventually given way to the knowledge that he'd pay up quickly, and it would be a small blip and wouldn't really matter in the larger scheme of things.

He just hadn't been through this kind of inspection quite enough times to get to that viewpoint, that was all.

The tests, however, he'd started to get used to since the transplant, and even more in the couple he'd had since these new symptoms had started. So he let them poke and prod, then sat in the exam room, flipping through his phone, ignoring the texts from Danny asking if he'd managed to ruin Danny's liver as he waited. 

He'd been promised answers this time; Danny could just wait until he had them. 

After what felt like a year, Kohashi knocked on the door, then entered, another doctor Steve hadn't met at his side. "Commander," Kohashi said, "this is Dr. Ling. He's a radiation oncologist."

It took a second for the words to sink in. Steve knew he must've nodded or shook the doctor's hand or something, since no one seemed like anything was out of order, but his mind was back in that field, a battery strapped to his chest, removing radioactive tubes from a bomb. 

Ling was saying something about lymphocytes and test results over months, before and after the exposure. Steve focused, shutting out the noise of a thousand questions he wasn't going to have any answer to right away and concentrating on what he could do right now, which was inform himself.

"We don't think you'll see a lot of long-term illness the way you've been experiencing it," Ling was saying. "The length of time between exposure and the onset of your symptoms is a good sign."

The fact that throwing up because his body had been penetrated by too much radiation was a good sign wasn't all that comforting, but Steve ignored that thought, focusing instead on the information.

"We'll put you on a drug regimen that will help combat the effects of the exposure, though you'll still be sick for a while," Ling said. "On the whole, you should improve as the medicine has a chance to work." 

"'On the whole?'" 

"This happening so soon after your transplant is less than ideal," Ling said. "Though the data from the check ins you've been having for that did help us determine the severity of the situation more quickly than we might have otherwise."

Which sounded like more of an evasion than an answer. "You said 'on the whole,'" Steve repeated. "What does that mean long term?"

Ling's glance at Kohashi wasn't comforting. "Given the circumstances, I'd say there's pretty much a hundred percent chance that you'll have complications down the line. That doesn't mean next week or next year," Ling hastened to add, "but somewhere in the future, it's likely there will be repercussions." 

He'd always known that there would likely be long-term effects of his job. Aches from old injuries, a body that had been pushed too far too many times and let him know it, even old enemies returning to exact vengeance. All of those went with the job. 

This, however, his own body turning on him to this extent because of it, was not something he'd considered.

He listened intently as Ling and Kohashi went over the treatment, but when it was through, he was grateful for the papers they'd given him outlining everything they'd said. For all the attention he'd paid, part of his brain had still been trying to process the diagnosis in the first place. But information was how he'd survived and thrived his whole life, and the papers clutched in his hand, were how he'd get through this. 

After a round of questions and assurances from both doctors that 'they'd get through this'—like they were the ones who actually had radiation sickness?—Steve made several follow up appointments and was finally able to escape.

He climbed into his truck and closed the door before dropping the packet of information and prescriptions on the passenger seat beside the box that held Danny's hat. The hat, meant to be a show of support, that now felt like a symbol of Danny's life once Steve was gone. 

The thought was quickly stuffed in a box and padlocked. He'd never thought that way, and he wasn't about to start now. He was a fucking SEAL. The only way out was through, and the only way through was to take it one obstacle at the time, one step at a time to get through each. 

Step one: Fill the prescriptions. 

Steve started the truck and headed for the pharmacy.

***

Danny's stomach did a little flip as Steve led Charlie off to get food. It was stupid. Steve had always been great to Grace and Charlie, but it still got to Danny, seeing how much Steve cared for Danny's kids.

Or maybe Danny was just looking at it through sappier glasses than usual.

Since his last conversation with Bridget back in New Jersey, Danny had watched Steve closely. Or more closely, since he'd never really developed the ability not to watch him at all. That light in Steve's eyes was still there, but then it had pretty much always been there. It wasn't enough to act on. 

The fact that Danny's kids needed him right now more than ever had to come first, too. So he spent more time at Rachel's, taking care of the kids, and then listening to her talk. For all that she'd been the one to force the move to Hawaii, she was more or less alone on the island now, at least as family went, and even if they were no longer married, they were still family, of a sort. He couldn't desert her, just like he hadn't been able to desert Matt, even after everything that had gone down.

At least Rachel hadn't run off to Colombia.

It had curtailed some of the time he might've spent with Steve—and no, he wasn't using it as an excuse, no matter what Bridget said in her almost daily Skype calls. He'd been serious when he'd said he needed to be sure. He couldn't lose Steve, and even though Danny could no longer ignore the fact that there was something between them, that didn't mean that Steve couldn't. 

But now there was this gift, sitting on Danny's desk like a ticking time bomb. Since when did Steve buy random gifts? Okay, sure, there was the weekend at the Kahala, but that had been an apology for getting Danny shot. And the headphones, but that had served Steve's purposes, since he no longer had to listen to the TV at night when he was trying to sleep. 

What was he supposed to make of a random gift on an ordinary day? His inner Bridget had all sorts of ideas about what it meant about Steve's feelings—God help him if the actual Bridget found out Steve was bringing him gifts—but this was Steve. The chance that it was a gag gift was a very real possibility. 

Danny knew some of the stories of the pranks Steve and his SEAL buddies had played on each other, and there was every chance that he'd open the box and snakes would jump out, or he'd be covered in confetti. 

Danny picked up the gift, actually tied with a ribbon and everything. Such an innocent looking box, but it felt like the contents were a crucial turning point to the rest of his life. If it was a gag gift, everything went on as it was. If not...even he couldn't ignore that.

The degree to which he _didn't_ want it to be a gag gift, wanted it to be something more, _mean_ something more, was a little scary. 

Steve walked back in, raising an eyebrow at Danny holding the gift. "You gonna open it?" 

Danny looked at the gift, then at Steve, then back at the gift, before putting it on the desk again. "What is it?"

"Open it," Steve said.

"It's not my birthday." 

"So what?" Steve sounded legitimately confused, like Danny was making a big deal out of nothing. "It doesn't have to be a special occasion. I got you a gift. You don't have to make a big deal out of it. Just open it." 

But what if Danny wanted it to be a big deal? He couldn't go into opening it with so much hinging on it in his mind. "Mother's Day?" he tried.

"What?" 

"It's Mother's Day in a week," Danny explained, "and I'm very over protective. You're doing a thing, you're making a joke 'cause...." He could see that wasn't it. "No?"

"Oy," Steve said, hanging his head. But when he looked up, that light was still there in his eyes, even as he said, "You're crazy. You know that? You're a crazy person."

But Steve liked crazy. Still.... "I'm not crazy. I'm just not interested in, like, a goof. Like a gag gift."

"I don't know why I try to be nice." Steve had clearly reached the end of his patience, which could mean it was legit. Or it could mean he was really selling it. "I just wanted to get you something," he said, rounding the desk. "Forget about it, all right?" 

He reached for the gift, but Danny grabbed it before he could take it away. "No, whoa, whoa!" He pulled it onto his lap. "Hey, you can't take back a gift." 

Steve's laughter was more kind than mocking. "Well open it!"

"You know," Danny said, hands a little damp at the thought, "this gesture of generosity is very uncharacteristic of you."

"I got it," Steve said, the laughter gone, "why don't I just take it and smash it over your head?"

And there was the Steve Danny knew and loved. "Well, I'll open it in that case. I don't want to be—"

Kono's knock interrupted. After a look back at Danny, Steve shuffled a second before heading for the door.

"I'll wait," Danny said, as he put the box on his desk and followed.

***

Steve followed along behind the truck, staring at the pineapple on the back. He'd grown tired of driving in circles, even long ones, and doing nothing. But he wasn't sure what he could do that wouldn't get the girls in the truck killed.

At least Danny had run out of pineapple jokes. 

"I don't get it," Danny said. "We're on an island. Where's he gonna go?"

Steve had wondered the same thing. "Maybe he thinks we're gonna get bored or back off or something," he said. 

"That was a legitimate question. You don't have to be a smart-ass with me."

What was with Danny all the sudden being so quick to assume Steve was being an ass? "Okay. All right," Steve said, trying to choose his words carefully. "You know what, buddy? I know you're stressed about Rachel's divorce, but you need to tone it down a notch, okay?"

"Why would you even bring Rachel—it's got nothing to do—you were being sarcastic."

Clearly spending all that time with Rachel was not doing much with Danny's ability to read Steve. Or maybe it was all those late nights at her house. "No, I wasn't. I was not being sarcastic."

"Oh, no?"

"No, and if we're being honest right now, I don't think this thing with you and Rachel is a healthy thing." 

He hadn't meant to blurt that out, but he was kind of glad now that he had. Danny didn't seem to get the point, though. "I'm helping her out with the kids sometimes."

Sure, that was all it was. "Yeah. After work." 

"After work at night. I put Charlie down to bed sometimes at her place." 

"And then what?" Steve asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. "Then what do you do?"

"What do you mean, 'And then what?' What do I do? We talk. What do you mean?" 

Oh, right, they _talk_ "Talk?" Steve said, making sure his disbelief was obvious. 

"Yeah, we talk."

"With your ex-wife?" Steve had to laugh. 

"Why is that funny?" Danny asked.

Seriously? He had to ask? "Oh, I don't know, Danny. Maybe because you're like a ten-year-old with a crush."

"Oh, you know what? You're out of your mind." 

Tell him something he didn't know. "I know I'm out of my mind, but I also know that you're in love with your ex-wife."

"Oh, please."

"And you won't admit it."

"Stop it." 

"And this whole divorce thing that she's going through is something you're happy about because it's finally—you got a shot to make things right, okay? All you gotta do is admit it." Because the sooner he did, the sooner Steve could start dealing with the disappointment and maybe, just maybe, move on. 

"By the way, I get it," Steve added. He hated the idea of Danny going back to Rachel, but he hated Danny being unhappy even more. And if he could see Danny happy, see Grace and Charlie with both their parents, then Steve would make the best best-man toast on the planet at the wedding and never drop the happy for the happy couple smile for a second, no matter what it cost him. 

Jerry's timely interruption allowed Steve to focus back on the case before he gave anything away. His mouth seemed to have other ideas, though, because as soon as their call with Miller was over, and Danny started critiquing Steve's end of the call, Steve couldn't help himself. 

"Little aggressive with him, I think," Danny said. "My personal opinion."

"I'm aggr—did you hear what he just said to me?" 

"He was reacting to your threat. That's why he said what he said." 

"Oh," Steve shot back. "Oh, now you're the perp whisperer? Good."

"People don't like to be threatened. Nobody likes to be threatened. You've heard the expression, 'You get more flies with honey than with vinegar?'"

You mean like buying someone a present and having it shoved back in their face? "No, I haven't. No. But I have heard, 'If you ain't got nothing nice and positive to say, keep your hole shut.'" He couldn't resist adding, "Unless you're 'talking' to your ex-wife." 

"Oh, would you please just stop with that? Enough."

Well, if Danny stopped 'talking' with her so much, maybe Steve could. "Yeah, I will, I will. When you admit what we both know to be true, I will stop with that stuff."

Steve wasn't even sure at that point if he was hoping Danny would admit to his feelings for Rachel or whatever there was between the two of them—because despite Danny's 'talks' with Rachel, that thing between him and Steve had not disappeared. The phone interrupted before he had a chance to figure it out, though. 

The conversation would have to wait until they'd rescued the girls.

***

"Excuse me," Danny said as he walked into Steve's office, "I'm just curious. Are you completely whacked out of your head? What's the matter with you?" 

Said the guy who was 'talking' to his ex-wife who'd lied about his own kid to his face for years? Steve pulled his pills out, dumping the dose into his hand and hoping Danny figured it was just aspirin. "You got a better idea?" 

"I don't have a better—what are you still taking pills? I thought you were done with the pills. Huh? You broke my liver, and the doc put you back on them, or what?" 

So much for that hope. "First of all, Danny, you can't break a liver. And second of all, don't you have something else to do?"

"I, actually, I do. It's watch you commit suicide, but I'm trying to put that off as much as possible, you know what I mean? I'll give it some time, huh?"

Suicide was a little bit of overkill—Steve wouldn't even attempt this if he didn't think it had a decent shot at success. But even if it didn't—what else was he going to do with his life? Especially when he wasn't sure how much of it he had left? 

He was touched that Danny was so worried. But they had to move fast. 

"We don't have time, brother," Steve said, hoping to convey how much Danny meant to him with that word and his tone, just in case this plan didn't work. "We gotta go. Come on." 

***

Danny listened as Jerry guided them through the first part of the plan, getting Miller on to the H3. He absolutely didn't want anything bad to happen to those girls, but he couldn't help hoping that Lou failed, just this once. They could find another way to get the girls back, one that didn't involve Steve diving to an almost certain death. 

Of course, they didn't fail.

Fine. "Steve," Danny said, "I have something to say." 

"Again?" 

"Yes, again, okay? Nobody ever listens to me . If you want to die today, that's what you wanna do, I'm fine with it."

Steve let out a grunt of some kind, one that Danny absolutely did not wonder if he'd sound like that having sex, that before saying, "Can't you just say, 'good luck?'"

"No, I can't say good luck, because the only way that luck plays a part in any of this is if you end up paralyzed instead of dead."

"Oh, I appreciate the encouragement, Danny." 

Jerry cut into the conversation. "Be advised, suspect is now less than a mile out." 

Which gave Danny maybe a minute to talk Steve out of this. He didn't know what to say, though—somehow he thought maybe a declaration of love would only ensure Steve's demise, rather than stop him from jumping. 

He searched for the words as the seconds ticked away and he heard Steve clearly gearing up for the jump, but it was Steve who spoke first. "Chef's hat." 

"Excuse me?"

"The gift. It's a chef's hat with your name on it."

Shit. While Danny was touched by the gift—and the implications—Steve wouldn't be saying that unless he was worried. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Well...you know, I just thought you could use it for Steve's."

Yeah, that tone definitely didn't sound optimistic. "All right, look, my restaurant, under no circumstances is gonna be called Steve's. And you're gonna know that, 'cause you're gonna be there, 'cause you're not gonna die today, okay?" Because Danny wouldn't accept any other possibility. "Just don't—you're not gonna—no-no dying today, okay?"

"You—I thought you said—"

"I know what I said, and I said it because I'm trying to talk you out of it. Obviously, it's not gonna work, okay? So—"

Jerry interrupted again with an update. When Steve acknowledged, Danny said, "Good luck, all right? Good luck."

"Thanks, partner." 

There was a finality to that tone that Danny still didn't like, but he couldn't do anything but listen as Jerry counted down, and Steve jumped. The noises alone made Danny half sick. 

When he didn't hear Steve immediately, he asked, "Steve, you okay?" 

"I'm good, I'm good."

Danny let out a long breath, half sick from relief this time. The worst part was over. Steve had made the jump and hadn't died. Now all they had to do was drive up behind the truck, get the girls and Steve onto the HPD vehicle at a high rate of speed without Miller noticing, and then it was over.

Piece of cake, comparatively speaking. 

And then gunfire came over the comms. Followed by sounds of a fight, but it sounded like only one other guy. If it was one guy, Steve could handle that. Danny wasn't worried. Not at all, not even as he listened to a fight he had no visual of.

They really, really needed body cams.

"All right, Steve," Danny said, trusting that Steve would win the fight. "We're almost in position, okay?" No confirmation. "Steve?" 

Still nothing, and Kono tried, "Steve, come in." 

Nothing.

"Steve, do you copy?" Chin said. 

The back of the truck opened and Steve threw a guy out of the truck, forcing Danny and the rest of the cars to have to swerve to avoid him. It didn't even raise Danny's level of panic, though, compared to Steve's lack of response right before. 

Danny focused on driving, watching the rescue while he kept the truck as steady as he could. He was just starting to feel optimistic when they got the notification that the cell jammer wasn't going to be working much longer. 

A moment later he watched as the truck sped up, Steve and the other half of the girls getting smaller, until Steve closed the back of the truck. 

Fuck.

***

Steve looked around the trailer to see what, if anything, he had to work with. It wasn't long before Danny came over the comms, asking "Got any more bad ideas?"

Steve was busy sorting through the ideas he did have until Danny said, "Steve?"

"I'm thinking," Steve said. He could crawl back through the ceiling and attack Miller, but that might wreck the truck. He needed to find a way to get the trailer away from Miller before he did anything. 

Which left only one option.

"I got it," Steve said. "I'm gonna uncouple the trailer." Danny didn't respond. "Danny, you there?" 

"Say that one more time," Danny replied. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna uncouple the trailer, separate it from the tractor."

"Okay," Danny said, "I wish I had Charlie's toys with me right now, so I could demonstrate what a colossally stupid idea that is."

"Okay, well a colossally stupid idea is better than no idea at all." 

"Said no one. _Ever._ You unhitch that trailer, it's gonna be like trying to land a plane without a front wheel."

It was still better than Miller driving them over a cliff. "This guy is walled in, and we both know what that could mean. I have to do something, I gotta do it right now."

"Okay. Okay," Danny said, taking a second before he added, "Thank you for the hat. Seriously."

Steve got it, understood what Danny was trying to say with the words, things he couldn't say over an open comm line. Steve took a second, getting himself under control, before he said, "You're welcome." He took a breath. "You're welcome. Seriously."

Dammit. Damn Rachel, damn her divorce, and damn what Danny thought of his happy little family idea. If Danny couldn't see what was there between them, then Steve would have to make him see. There was no way anything he had with Rachel could compare. Not to this. 

And there was no way that Steve was going to let anything happen to himself, not when he had to stick around to show Danny that. He didn't care if he was nauseous or tired, he was getting out of this.

He turned around and got to work.

***

Danny pulled up to see Steve helping the girls out of the truck. Steve looked to be in one piece, which undid a little of that tight band around Danny's heart, but he hadn't even made it all of the way to Steve's side before he was asking, "You all right? Huh?" 

"Yeah, I'm all right," Steve said. "Everybody's okay."

"You're completely insane, you know that?" Danny said, as he helped Steve help the rest of the girls out of the trailer. 

"I'm insane?"

"Yes." 

Steve glanced at Danny. "Is that what you said?"

"I did." Because only an insane person would do all the stuff Steve did today, let alone other days. 

"Hold on a second," Steve said, looking around. "Oh, look at that. I just got the job done. But I'm insane." 

"I was talking about your mental stability. It has nothing to do with your achievements. I mean, I'm very proud of you," Danny added, applauding as sarcastically as he could manage. 

"My mental stability? That's a relative term. Insanity is a relative term," Steve said "I feel like when you say things like that, you're labeling me, and it hurts my feelings, I gotta be honest." 

Danny would, in fact, very much like to label him. Big fat label on his head that said, 'Property of Danny Williams.' "Obviously I'm not trying to hurt your feelings," Danny said. 

"Okay. All right, okay. Well, listen...."

Steve put his arm around Danny's shoulder, and Danny's brain went offline just a little at the touch. "Why would you think I'm trying to hurt your feelings?" he asked, as he put his arm around Steve's back, hand gripping Steve's shoulder, the warmth of him alive and not mangled to death in a car crash or something more of a comfort than was truly good for Danny's sanity.

"I just think it's sometimes the way you say it. Maybe it's the timing."

"No, I don't want to hurt your feelings," Danny said. He didn't want to hurt Steve in any way. "I never want—the last thing on Earth I want to do is hurt your feelings." 

"Can we have a reset?" 

"Yeah, of course." Whatever he wanted, as long as he stayed by Danny's side like this. "You did a good job here today."

"Thanks, buddy," Steve said. "I appreciate that." 

"You're welcome." 

Steve stopped walking, forcing Danny to stop with him or let go. And he didn't want to let go. "Why are we walking this way?" Steve asked. "The truck is that way." 

"Yes," Danny said, "but the ambulance is this way."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I don't need an ambulance, Danny."

"Really? The doctor put you back on pills because you've probably done irreparable harm to my liver, you've just jumped onto a speeding truck, had what sounded like a hell of a fight, and then jumped out of the truck to unhook the trailer _while it was still moving_ , so I think, no, excuse me, I _know_ that you are not leaving here without getting checked out by an EMT."

Steve's lips thinned, and Danny steeled himself for a fight. Because he didn't want to hurt Steve, but he would grab him by the ear and drag him to the ambulance if he had to. The fear for Steve's life may have taken a different turn during the rescue, but now that the rescue was over, the fear was still there, fueled by whatever pills the doctor put Steve on that had him giving Danny gifts and being all sincere. 

Then Steve nodded. "All right," he said, slipping out of Danny's hold, but pausing to put his hand on the side of Danny's neck. "I'll go get checked out if it'll make you happy." 

Danny leaned into the touch, but it was gone before he could fully enjoy it, Steve's hand slipping away as Steve turned and walked towards the ambulance. He looked tired, more than usual, but then it had been a grueling afternoon, to say the least, even by their standards. 

Danny followed, rounding the ambulance as Steve took a seat just inside the back door, legs dangling over the edge. He joked with the EMTs, subjecting himself to the usual checks, but there was something in the strain around his mouth that had Danny frowning as he watched.

When the EMTs pronounced him fine, Steve raised his eyebrows at Danny. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." 

Steve rolled his eyes as he got off the ambulance, picking up his tac vest. "Come on," Steve said, putting his arm around Danny again. "We need to go pick up your hat so you can cook for Jerry's party tonight." 

The mention of the hat made Danny lean in just a little more. "I see why you got the hat now," Danny said. "You think I'm going to be your personal chef."

The huff of laughter reverberated through Danny just from how close they were. "You've figured out my plan." 

"I know you," Danny said. And he did. He knew Steve, and he knew that this wasn't something that was going to go away, for either of them. 

He just had to figure out how to bring that up. Tonight. 

***

Steve watched from the corner of the room, the party in full swing. He'd taken a quick nap when he got home, hoping it would keep the sickness at bay. It tended to hit worse when he pushed himself too far, and he was hoping to avoid it with a house full of friends and family. 

It didn't work, though, and he barely made it to the downstairs bathroom before he threw up. He was trying to get his skin a color other than ash so he wouldn't get any questions when he went back out, but then Danny knocked on the door. He was about to tell Danny to use the upstairs one when he realized it was Charlie who needed in. 

Maybe Danny wouldn't notice. Okay fine, maybe he wouldn't ask.

Or maybe Steve would get the hard part out of the way and tell him now, when he did ask, because he was absolutely going to ask. And Danny might be a little calmer about it at first if there was a house full of people.

Steve opened the door. 

"I'm sorry, Charlie boy," he said. "Come on in." 

He ushered Charlie into the bathroom, as Danny called after him, "Hey, don't touch anything. And flush the toilet, wash your hands afterwards."

"Right," Steve said, closing the door, "he knows what to do."

It took Danny no time at all to notice and ask, "What's the matter? You all right?"

"Nice hat," Steve said, unsure why he was even trying to stall.

"Thanks." The look on Danny's face didn't even require him to make a follow up question.

_Here goes nothing._ "Yeah, I, uh..."

"What?" Danny prompted.

"I've been getting these spells." 

"What spells."

He'd give anything not to be putting that look on Danny's face, or the one he knew would follow when the story was over. "Look, I lied to you about going to the doctor, okay? I didn't go to the doctor about my liver," Steve said. "I just haven't been feeling so great, so, they ran some tests last week."

He paused for a second, prompting Danny to give an impatient, "And?"

"And I got a little radiation poisoning from that dirty bomb that we diffused a couple months ago. It's fine," Steve added quickly. "The pills you've seen me taking, that's a short term thing. It's gonna knock it out." He hoped. 

"All right," Danny said, measured and even. "Short term. So, what, uh, long term, is there any—what—I mean, what is it?"

Yeah, measured and even, but barely coherent. Steve hated doing this to him. "Come on, Danny. You ask ten of these guys, you're gonna get ten different opinions, right?" It was what kept him going, knowing that no one really had any idea for sure what the effects would be beyond the next few weeks. 

"Right, well, what did this—what did this guy—he say anything about long term, or...?"

He had hoped Danny wouldn't push that question, but Steve wasn't going to lie to him. "He—he says he's almost a hundred percent sure there's gonna be some side effects down the road, you know, Danny, but we're talking years down the road. Not today. I'm fine right now. This is nothing." 

He could see Danny knew it wasn't nothing, but they couldn't talk about this any longer, not with everyone in the next room and Charlie likely to come out of the bathroom any second. "Will you make me a drink, please?" Steve asked. "Come on, we got a lot to celebrate, right?" 

He put his hand on Danny's cheek, unable to have the full conversation he wanted right then and there, but wanting to at least get some of it across. "I love you," Steve said, passing it off like it was nothing by adding, "make me a drink." 

He went into the kitchen before he said anything else that had to wait until later, leaving Danny to process the news in peace.

***

Danny kept his eyes on Steve the rest of the night—which, if he was being honest, wasn't that different from usual. The tiredness that had been lurking there, just under the surface, for a while now made so much more sense in light of Steve's bombshell.

For months, Danny had worried that there would be some effects from the whole dirty bomb incident. He'd gone to Steve's check up to make himself feel better about it, and had just let down his guard and let himself believe that, once again, the universe made an exception for Steve when he should've been dead.

And now this. 

Chin, Abby and Sarah left earlier than usual. Despite Chin's claims of Sarah's bedtime, Danny had no doubt Chin would be checking in on Kono, who hadn't shown up. Not entirely a surprise—she'd taken the case harder than the rest of them, and she was like Steve in a lot of ways, including that need to nurse her pain in private. 

As Steve had apparently been doing for a while. 

Looking back over the past couple months, Danny saw the pattern, but he'd been too caught up in his own shit to put things together like the good detective he usually was. Maybe if he'd paid more attention, Steve could've gotten help sooner. Maybe it would've reduced that "one hundred percent" prognosis of problems later on. 

His hopes of talking to Steve more about the radiation were dashed as his watch hit ten and no one else had left. Danny needed to get the kids to Rachel's in time to be in bed at a decent hour. She was taking them to the beach bright and early, and they needed the time with their mother right now as much as Rachel needed the time with them. 

Danny made his way over to Steve, waiting for a break in his conversation with Flippa and Kamekona over UH football players before saying, "Hey, I gotta take off." 

"Kids need to get back?" Steve asked, even though he knew they did. Knew what time and why, because he always knew every aspect of Danny's life, and it had taken Danny way too long to understand why. 

"Yeah. I'll, uh, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

It was as much a warning as a goodbye, and it was clear Steve saw that, as he nodded. "Yeah." 

Grace and Charlie gave Steve hugs goodbye, and Danny gave him one last look as the three of them headed for the door.

The car was quiet out to Rachel's, with Grace immersed in her phone and Charlie asleep in the back seat. But Grace put her phone down as they were almost to Rachel's to ask, "Danno, is Uncle Steve okay?"

He hated lying to his kids. But. "Of course. Why?"

"He just looks tired." 

"It was a long day," Danny said, the only thing he would tell her about the day. She didn't need to know about all those girls around her age and what they'd been through. "He'll be fine."

She nodded, her father's word still all she needed to believe that, even now, and went back to her phone. 

He would be fine, dammit. Danny wouldn't accept any other outcome. And if Danny had to bare his soul to give Steve a reason to fight, then he would, and the sooner the better. 

He didn't have the kids the rest of the weekend, so there was no time better than tonight. 

***

Rachel offered him coffee when the kids had gone up to bed, but he shook his head. He'd been providing her an outlet to talk, but there was something more important he needed to do. 

He ignored the disappointment on her face. For all that he still felt like she was family, she had lied to him about Charlie for years. Lied when he was ready to follow her 5,000 miles again, to leave a good thing for uncertainty for her. Lied when he was the one there to help her give birth, not Stan. 

Just because he could get past it enough to be kind to her didn't change the facts.

Danny got into the car and pointed it right back toward Steve's house, ready to push as long as it took for Steve to give in and admit what they had both known for a lot longer than they'd even admitted to themselves. 

Bridget had been right, but she'd been wrong, too. It wouldn't hurt any less if he lost Steve without acting on this, but the regret on top of the loss would've been far worse. 

The irony of the very real possibility of actually losing Steve knocking down any last remnants of Danny's fear of losing Steve was something he hoped Bridget never pointed out. But even if she did, he didn't care.

If he lost Steve in the end, whether it was in six months or fifty years, he was going to make damn sure he had a lot of memories saved up to get him through it.

***

The lights were out when Danny pulled up to Steve's house. Not surprising, given how tired Steve had obviously been. But Danny was determined.

He let himself in and climbed the stairs to Steve's room. Steve didn't stir, so Danny took a seat in the chair by the bed and watched him for a few minutes. He looked so tired, even in sleep, reminding Danny of when they were in the hospital. Danny would wake up in the middle of the night and watch to make sure Steve was still breathing. How the hell had he missed what it meant then? Worse, how had he missed it for years? 

He'd been an idiot. 

Maybe if he just crawled into bed beside Steve, Steve would get the idea when he woke up. Maybe they wouldn't even have to have a conversation about it. Maybe it could just be that easy.

Then again, nothing had been easy between them. 

No, that wasn't true. They'd fallen into each other's lives easily enough that the rest had been worth fighting for because they _fit_. Hawaii and a pain in the ass Navy SEAL might've been the last things Danny ever thought he wanted, but they were what he needed. And if he didn't have the guts to fight for what he needed, then it was time to take a serious look at his priorities.

Steve stirred, eyes blinking open, that perfect face marred by confusion. "Danny?" 

"Yeah." Danny cleared his throat, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You know, you sleep like a log. Anyone could just come in here and attack."

Steve shook his head, still looking half asleep. "Nah. I knew it was you," he said with a smile.

That sleepy voice, combined with that smile, would melt a lot stronger person than Danny. "You didn't know anything. You were asleep."

"I still know you in my sleep."

Which made no sense, but Danny totally understood. He'd know Steve anywhere, any time, in any state of consciousness. The particular sounds he made, the specific way he smelled, his voice, his breathing, everything about him was so familiar. 

Steve sat up, the covers falling down into his lap, giving Danny a nice view of Steve's chest in the moonlight. It was a very nice chest, all the more special for the scars on it. Danny knew the agony of every one of them, what each one had meant to the bond between them, from the shot where Hesse might have ended this before it had a chance to begin all the way up to the bullet holes that nearly ended it for good. And the most important—the long scar up the middle that matched Danny's, the one that bound them together by blood and tissue forever.

"Danny?" 

Danny blinked, meeting Steve's eyes, seeing confusion mixed in with that light that was always there. "Hm?"

"Is there a reason for the middle of the night visit?" Steve asked. "Because if you're here to yell at me for not telling you about the radiation poisoning, can it wait until morning?"

"What? No." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "No, I'm not here to yell at you—not that you don't deserve it. But no, that can wait."

"Okay. Then why are you here?" 

Easy enough to answer, but finding the right words seemed much harder. "I'm not in love with Rachel," he said at last.

Steve's brow furrowed. "Okay...." he said, his disbelief clear in his voice.

"I'm not. And I know you think I am, because I help her, after everything. I mean, yeah, I do love her, she's the mother of my kids. And she'll always be family. But I'm not _in_ love with her." 

"Danny, if you came over here in the middle of the night to convince me you don't love your ex-wife, you really don't have—"

"Stop," Danny said, holding out a hand. "Just stop and let me get through this, okay?" When Steve didn't try to say anything else, Danny took a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure I wasn't in love with her back when we got together a few years ago, either. But I didn't know, I had no idea that—I mean, how could I? It was...." He didn't know how to explain any of it.

"Danny." Steve's voice was gentle, that light in his eyes, the one that always made Danny feel like more than he was, there as always. "I get it, okay? You don't love her." 

No, he clearly didn't get it, not with that tone in his voice. "No, I do love her. I’m just not in love with her. I can't be. There's no room for her any more. Not...not with you here," Danny said, putting his hand over his chest. 

Steve hadn't exactly been bouncing around, but he went completely still at that. 

"I love you," Danny said, words he'd said to Steve a number of times, he just hadn't realized all those times he'd meant them like this. "And not, 'I love you, buddy,' or whatever we always say, Steve. I. Love. You. And I thought it was easier to watch you jump off buildings and in front of bullets if I just pretended like it wasn't there, but it is there, and I'm tired of ignoring it.

"And I'm not even asking you to stop jumping off buildings," Danny said. "Not because I don't wish you would, because it would be a hell of a lot easier on my heart and give me a lot less gray hairs. But it's who you are, and I love you, insanity and all."

Danny took a long breath and let it out slowly. "Anyway, that's it. That's what I came to say."

Steve wet his lips before sliding back across the bed, putting more space between him and Danny. "Danny," Steve said, patting the empty spot, "come here." 

"Why?"

Steve's smile didn't waver, even as he rolled his eyes. "Just come here." 

Danny pushed off his knees with his hands as he stood, helping to wipe the sudden dampness off his palms. The few steps to the side of the bed seemed like a mile. "What?" 

"Sit down." When Danny hesitated, Steve added, "Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." 

Danny sat down, slightly dazed by being this close to the smell and heat of Steve in a bed. The look on Steve's face didn't help. It made Danny feel like Superman or something, the way Steve looked at him. "Okay," Danny said. "I'm sitting." 

"Sorry, I just...." Steve ran a hand through his hair, his face turning serious. "You know I'm not going anywhere, right?"

"Well, you're in bed and I'm assuming not very dressed under those sheets, plus, I'm blocking the route to the door, so, yeah."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I mean this radiation poisoning. I'm not going to up and die tomorrow." 

Where was he going with this? "I would certainly hope not. You said the doctors said that would be years down the line."

Danny wasn't sure what he'd said, but it seemed to be the right thing. "So you know if we do this, I'm not disappearing tomorrow. Or next week. Or in a decade."

"I'm hoping you'll be around for a lot of decades." 

Steve nodded, whatever crazy thing that had been in his head apparently satisfied by that. "Good. Just wanted to make sure you weren't on some noble quest to make sure my last days were happy or something like that." 

Oh. It had never crossed Danny's mind that Steve might think that way. "No, sorry," Danny said, eyes drifting down to Steve's lips, which were so temptingly close. "You're stuck with me for a hundred years." 

"Good." Steve's hand landed on the side of Danny's face, the gesture so familiar that Danny wondered again how he'd missed this for so long. "By the way," Steve said, as he leaned in, eyes meeting Danny's, "I love you, too."

The kiss was a million times better than the one they'd shared before, and that was saying something. Or possibly Danny was overwhelmed with a combination of relief and want, but he didn't care. Because he wanted so much and all of it right then and there that his brain refused to actually think.

"Clothes," he finally managed, muttering the word between kisses. 

"Yeah," Steve muttered back. "Off. Now." 

Danny pulled back long enough to get his shirt off before leaning back in for another kiss. It turned out kissing Steve did things to his dexterity, however, and made him incapable of dealing with buttons and zippers.

"Let me," Steve said, before he twisted Danny around while pushing him on his back onto the bed. 

Before Danny could put up a token protest at the manhandling, Steve had Danny naked and was looking down with that expression again, the one that would have made Danny blush if all his blood hadn't migrated to the middle of his body. 

"You," Steve said, straddling Danny's thighs, "are gorgeous, do you know that?" 

"You're not so bad yourself," Danny said, eyes traveling down the length of Steve's body, which, as Danny had suspected, had been naked under the sheets. He'd wanted this for so long, much longer than he'd ever realized, that actually having it was almost overwhelming. 

Steve leaned down, the feel of his skin against Danny's amazing. Their lips met as Steve moved against him, his cock bumping Danny's, that and the friction of their skin promising to get Danny off much faster than he'd like. He wanted more, so much more, but it would have to wait, as Steve's hips sped up, and he broke the kiss to lick at Danny's neck until he stilled, warm wetness between them setting Danny off as well. 

He drifted in a haze of pleasure, conscious of Steve lying on top of him, a warm weight Danny would gladly bear for as many years as he could. He ran his hand lightly down Steve's spine, felt Steve's answering shiver and the way Steve's arms tightened around him for a moment before Steve slid halfway off with a kiss to Danny's neck. 

Danny turned into Steve, sliding his leg between Steve's and breathing in the smell of Steve and sex. It was a smell he could get used to, addicted to, even, very quickly.

The thought didn't scare him the way it would have before. The thought of not having experienced this was far more terrifying. He'd take whatever came as long as he got to have this for as much time as he could. 

He realized Steve's breathing had evened out into sleep, even though his grip was still strong around Danny, as if he was afraid Danny would leave. Danny knew that fear would take time to quell, and might never go away, but he was determined to do his best to rid Steve of it.

Danny had no plans to go anywhere, not when he'd just found his place. 

***

A wave of nausea woke Steve, and he lay very still, hoping that it would subside and he wouldn't need to reach for the trash can beside the bed. The last thing he wanted to do was mar his first night with Danny by throwing up. 

As romantic gestures went, it didn't rank very high on the list. 

The wave subsided, and he hoped that was a sign that the medicine was starting to work. He'd already felt tired and not his usual self—losing more energy by tossing up nutrients hadn't been helping. 

He turned carefully onto his side, slowly so as not to make himself sick, to see Danny lying inches away, his face on the edge of Steve's pillow, his arm and leg slung across Steve's body. Of all the reactions he'd imagined Danny having at learning the news, a declaration of love had been so far down the list he hadn't even imagined it.

Well, okay, maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he'd considered the possibility, but he hadn't actually expected it. If anything, he'd expected it to drive Danny further into Rachel's arms to avoid the messy entanglements that come with relationships with people who are likely to die.

After all, wasn't that Danny's big argument for retirement in the first place, to make sure the ones he loved weren't so worried about him?

Instead, Danny had done what he'd needed to take care of his kids and left Rachel's to come right back to Steve. Even with the bed smelling like Danny and sex, it was still difficult to believe it was real, and Steve reached out to touch Danny's neck, solid and warm, the pulse there strong under Steve's fingers. 

Danny stirred, eyes blinking open for a second before they focused on Steve. "Hey," Danny said, voice laced with sleep, going straight to Steve's dick, which, sadly, thanks to everything his body had been through lately, wasn't recovered enough to do anything about it. 

"Hey yourself." He might not be able to get it up just yet, but he could pull Danny in close, feel all that warm, furred skin against him as Danny settled in like there was no place he'd rather be. 

After a moment, Danny pulled back, frowning up at Steve. "What's wrong?"

Steve shook his head, a little of the nausea coming back, but it faded quickly. "Nothing. Just...it's a lot to take in."

"Not having regrets, are you?"

"No," Steve said quickly, even though he could tell Danny was joking. "Well, maybe that it took us so long to get here, but that can't be helped. So no."

"Good." Danny used his leg to pull Steve a little closer, a move that Steve was very much in approval of. "Because you're stuck with me now."

Like that was something bad? "I'm good with that." 

"I do have news for you, though," Danny said. His voice was grave, and Steve steeled himself for whatever came next. "If we start spending even more time together, at some point Grace is going to subject you to a stupidly annoying amount of boy bands." 

Steve laughed. "I think I can handle that," he said. He thought about Grace and Charlie, about all they'd been through in such short lives, and how remarkably well they'd come through it all so far. "You have good kids, Danny."

"Yeah, I got lucky."

"No, they did. You're a great father, and they're a great legacy to everything you are."

Danny frowned. "I hadn't thought about it that way. Most of the time I'm just trying to get through a day without one of them losing a shoe or something." 

While it was clearly a joke, it was also clear that Danny had no idea just how good a father he was. "You'll get it one day," Steve said. "You'll see how much influence you've had on them."

"Like you haven't?" Danny said. "Grace swims like a fish and jokes about becoming the first female SEAL sometimes." 

What? "She never said...."

"Oh she'd be too embarrassed to say it to you, but trust me. She's thought about it." 

"I guess I never thought I had that much influence on anyone."

He didn't know why that made Danny smile, or why it made him lean in for a kiss—though if he did, he'd have probably just done it again for another kiss. "You're amazing, you know that?" 

"Why?"

"You do all these things for other people, and you have no idea how much you change their lives. Look at Nahale—where do you think he'd be if he'd stolen anyone's car but yours? Happy, healthy and cared for, looking at a real future instead of a revolving door at Halawa or worse?" 

"He's a good kid, I just helped him out a little." 

"Oh, a little. You've been like a big brother to that kid. And then there's Chin. Who took him out of security guard hell and back into the job he was meant for?"

"But he's a great cop," Steve said. "He's more than proved me right."

Danny shook his head. "Not my point. You've changed so many people's lives, Steve. You want to talk about legacies, yours is going to be legendary. Look at those girls today. All the people you've saved. And if you want to look closer, there isn't a person attached to Five-0 you whose life you haven't changed drastically for the better. Hell, Grace and Charlie's grandchildren will tell stories they heard about Superhero SEAL Steve or something."

"'The best legacy a man can leave behind is the people whose lives he's changed,'" Steve said.

"Great quote," Danny said, rubbing his nose against the pillow and looking like he was about a minute away from passing out. "Who said it?"

"This guy I met once," Steve said. Danny's sleepiness was contagious; Steve's eyelids were getting heavy. 

"Smart guy," Danny said around a yawn. He leaned in for a soft kiss, his eyes closing. "You can tell me more about him in the morning." 

Steve watched as Danny drifted off to sleep. He pulled Danny closer, enjoying the feel of him so close, the sounds he made when Steve made him move, the way his breath settled into a rhythm better than the ocean breeze as it drifted over Steve's skin. 

Maybe Danny was right. Maybe the legacies Steve had already built were enough, what they did every day was enough. And maybe, just maybe, he could stop worrying so much about what the future thought of him, and spend more time here and now. 

In fact, as long as Danny was his here and now, Steve was pretty certain he could manage that. 

***


	26. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Thanks for reading, for all the lovely comments, for the well wishes about the hand (which still isn't behaving, but I finally managed this anyway!) and for just being awesome people! Sorry for the long delays--if I do this again next year, I'm going to try to post more timely. Assuming horrible things don't happen to me. And assuming I even do it again. We'll see. 
> 
> A huge, massive thanks to smudgegirl - all of you should thank her, actually. She's been a cheerleader, editor, sounding board, patient listener, offered suggestions and helps and has been a huge part of me getting each chapter done. Basically, she's awesome. :) 
> 
> Enjoy the epilogue and the summer! (Now where's that long distance WIP....)

"Danny," Steve said, checking his watch. "It's a weekend. How much crap could you possibly need for two days?"

Danny shrugged as he continued searching through the few drawers that had somehow become his over the last three months. Steve still wasn't quite sure how, since no discussion had taken place, but he was fine with it. More than fine. "It's a baseball game," Danny said. "It could be hot, or it could get chilly, so I need layers, just in case. Plus," he added, pulling out a shirt and stuffing into an already bursting carry on suitcase, "you won't tell me where we're going for dinner, so I have no idea what to pack."

"It's going to be 75 degrees at game time," Steve said. "I think you'll be fine. And whatever you'd wear to work is fine for dinner." Steve pulled Danny in close, smiling down into his eyes, "as long as you don't wear a tie."

Danny leaned up for a kiss. "Funny, my ties seem to all still be at my place. How did that happen?"

"You don't need them. That's how." 

"I think that's more a why," Danny said, pausing for another kiss. "But whatever."

Steve stole one more kiss before letting Danny go. "Are you ready now?" he asked. "Or should I just go change our flight?"

"I'm ready. Let's go." 

***

LAX didn't seem to be quite the nightmare Danny had remembered from previous trips. Of course, most of those had been early morning layovers where he'd been facing another six hours on a plane, which didn't exactly endear an airport to him. 

This time, though, was different. This time he was on his way to see the Yankees—finally, after more years than he wanted to think about. And he didn't have to fly another six hours to do it. 

"Rental car place is this way," Steve said, with a light, guiding touch to Danny's back. 

Of course, he had to survive Steve's driving through L.A. to Anaheim to get to the game, but surely that couldn't be as bad as a long flight in coach. 

***

"You can open your eyes now," Steve said, as he pulled up behind a couple of other cars at the hotel doors, waiting his turn with the valet.

Danny did as he was told, fixing Steve with a glare. "You are a menace," Danny said. "Really. I mean, I thought that you were bad in Hawaii, but I figured maybe that had more to do with you feeling like immunity and means included a license to just run roughshod over every traffic law ever written. But this? How you didn't get ten tickets, or worse, cause ten accidents, just getting here I have no idea."

"It wasn't that bad," Steve said mildly, as he moved up in line. "Traffic was light for this time of day."

"Thank God—I don't even want to know what you would've done if traffic had been stopped."

"Well, our flight back is at a busier time, so maybe you'll get to find out."

Danny shook his head as Steve pulled up in front of the doors and put the car in park. "No, we will not find out. Because there is no way you're driving back. I am driving back." 

Steve didn't answer—what was the point? If it made Danny happier to think that, great. 

They both knew who would be driving the car back. 

***

Danny checked the clock beside the large, comfy hotel bed, before he looked back towards the closed bathroom door. "You okay in there?" 

"I'm fine."

He didn't have that hoarse, strained sound he got when he'd been throwing up, and Danny's anxiety eased a little. Steve's stomach had been getting better, but that didn't stop Danny from getting nervous any time Steve was in a bathroom for more than five minutes. 

Not that he didn't trust Steve with his life. He just didn't trust Steve to share if things weren't quite as good as Danny would like when it came to Steve's health. He knew Steve didn't want to worry him. He just hadn't been able to get Steve to quite understand that kind of worry was part of a relationship. 

It wasn't like Danny hadn't known what he was signing on for a few months ago. And he'd sign on again in a heartbeat for all the good stuff that had come in those months. He just hadn't quite figured out how to let go of the fear that months were all they had.

The bathroom door opened and Steve stepped out, mouthwatering in a pair of jeans and a.... "Steven," Danny said, pushing up off the bed and moving closer to examine, "that is a Yankees shirt." 

"It is." 

"I thought you were an Orioles fan."

Steve shrugged, the movement somehow even better than usual in the navy blue with Danny's favorite sports logo across Steve's chest. "I was back when I went to school, but it's not like I was a diehard. And anyway, they're not playing today, so I decided, 'when in Rome.'" 

Danny knew that slightly embarrassed look, knew it meant this was less 'when in Rome' and more 'make Danny happy.' He also knew better than to call attention to it. "'Rome' is still 3,000 miles away, babe," he said, taking a step closer so their hips brushed against each other as Danny's hands landed on Steve's waist, the t-shirt soft and inviting. 

"I suppose I could buy an Angels shirt when we get to the stadium."

Danny's grip tightened as he pulled Steve a little closer. "You could also book a second room for yourself tonight."

That particular grin, the one that never failed to get Danny's cock to sit up and take notice, had Danny pressing even closer. "Well, no point in buying another shirt when I've barely gotten this one dirty, right?" Steve said. 

Danny had all kinds of ideas about how he could get this shirt absolutely filthy when they got back to the room. He might have to buy Steve a few more to get through all those ideas, in fact. "How economical of you," he said, leaning in for a kiss.

"I thought you were in a hurry," Steve said, making no move to leave.

"Right." Danny couldn't resist one more kiss. "Come on, let's go."

The shirt and that big hotel bed could wait. 

***

"Are you sure you don't want one of these?" Danny asked, as they settled into their seats, waiting for the game to start.

Steve looked at the hot dog Danny held out, smothered in about six different condiments. "No, thanks," Steve said, hand over his stomach protectively. Just the smell of it made him nauseous, but he wasn't ruining Danny's time by telling him that. "Not really hungry."

He hated putting that look on Danny's face, even as he couldn't help but be warmed by the care behind it. "We can go back to the hotel if you're not feeling well."

And he hated that, too, that Danny couldn't even enjoy a Yankees game for worrying about Steve and this stupid condition. "Danny, I'm fine," Steve said, sitting up straighter, doing everything he could to project the image of health. "I'm just not hungry."

After a long, critical look, Danny nodded, apparently satisfied. "Okay, but if you change your mind, it'll be too late, because I’m going to eat them both."

"You do that."

***

Danny would have thoroughly enjoyed a lopsided victory by the Yankees, but the nail-biting pitcher's duel had its moments, even as they went into the ninth tied 1-1. 

His worry over Steve not wanting to eat had died down as Steve had gotten as into the game as Danny. Surely if anything was wrong he'd be less attentive to the game. But he'd been hanging on every play, and rooting for the Yankees like he'd been a life-long fan.

Just when Danny thought he couldn't love the guy more....

The Yankees two-run homer had them both out of their seats, along with the surprising number of other Yankees fans in the stadium. The lead held, and Danny's face literally hurt from smiling as they filed slowly through up the stairs with the rest of the crowd. 

He and Steve had never had anything resembling personal space between them, and there was a mass of people, so he didn't think anything of it the first couple of times Steve bumped against him, right up until Steve actually stumbled into him.

"Hey," Danny said, pulling Steve off to the side, helping him to lean against the wall. "What's wrong?"

Steve shook his head, screwing his eyes together tightly as he slid down the wall to sit against it. "I..."He shook his head again, then his eyes closed, his neck drooping as his head slipped forward. 

Danny looked around, calling out to an usher nearby. One look at Steve and she said she'd be right back with help and took off. Danny crouched down, hands on both sides of Steve's face, holding it up. "Okay, this is a lousy way to get out of celebrating a Yankees win," Danny said. "Come on, you owe me dinner."

Steve didn't wake up. Danny felt for a pulse on Steve's neck, finding it fast, but still there. He was breathing, too. He just wasn't awake. 

"What happened?" a voice asked from behind Danny. He looked up to find someone with a medical bag over his shoulder, his name tag listing him as only 'M. Turner," standing behind him.

"He just passed out," Danny said, moving out of the way but staying close. "I don't know. One second we were walking, the next he was stumbling, and then he was on the ground."

"Is he on any medication?" Turner asked, as he checked all of Steve's vitals. 

Danny tried to remember the drugs Steve was taking for the radiation. "He, uh...he's being treated for radiation sickness," Danny said. 

"Radiation sickness?" Turner stood up, reaching for a radio. He barked a few words into it, then listened to the response before he looked at Danny. "The ambulance is pulling around, and they'll bring a stretcher," he said. "You know what he's on?"

Danny rattled off the drugs. "He was on something else for the liver transplant, but—"

"He's had a transplant, too?" Turner looked as though his eyes might actually pop out of his head. 

"That was over a year ago," Danny said. "He's been fine except for the radiation poisoning."

Turner stared at him for a few seconds. "He was fine except for the radiation poisoning?" he repeated slowly.

Okay, in retrospect, Danny could see how that sentence seemed odd unless you knew Steve. "Trust me, the guy is Captain America. He can survive just about anything."

"Let's hope so," Turner said, before looking over Danny's shoulder. "Stretcher is coming," he said, standing up. 

Danny looked behind him to see that a crowd had gathered without him noticing. It was parting now, though, to let the stretcher through. Danny stood back and let the professionals lift Steve onto the stretcher, his skin grey, the way Danny had seen it a few too many times for his liking over the last few months. 

He was going to be fine, though. He was going to be absolutely fine. This was Steve—he was invincible. 

Danny followed as they wheeled Steve around to the ambulance, giving the EMTs Steve's basic information. He watched as they lifted the stretcher into the ambulance. "I'm riding with you," Danny said, but one of the EMTs held him back. 

"Are you family?"

Hell yes. Except he wasn't. Not legally. "I'm the only person he has here," Danny said. 

"I'm sorry, but you can't ride unless you're family. Do you have a car?" 

Danny nodded. "Yeah, um...where are you taking him?" He vaguely recognized the name of the hospital, tried to remember where he'd seen the sign to find it before he remembered his phone had GPS. 

He watched as the ambulance doors closed on Steve, the EMTs running around to the front, getting in, and driving off. As soon as they pulled away, Danny went to find the car in the parking lot. His distraction didn't help with finding a rental car he barely remembered, but he found it eventually and reached into his pocket for the keys.

Which were in Steve's pocket in the back of an ambulance.

Fuck.

Danny leaned against the car, taking a deep breath and pushing anything aside that wasn't going to help in the situation. That done, he pulled out his phone and called a cab. 

***

Traffic getting out of the game was a nightmare. By the time Danny got to the hospital, he was ready to scream. He paid the driver and hurried into the ER, only to have to stand in line at the reception desk. He looked around as he waited, seeing a mostly full waiting room. That, combined with the harried look of the staff he saw rushing around, was a sure sign that it was going to be a long night all around. 

It seemed like forever until he finally got up to the desk, even if his watch said it was less than five minutes. "I'm Danny Williams. My...friend," he said, because he didn't know what else to call him, "was brought in by ambulance from the baseball game. Steve McGarrett?"

The woman at the desk checked her computer, then shook her head. "I don't see anyone listed on the official directory," she said, giving Danny a sympathetic look. "He would only be listed if he gave consent, though." 

"He was unconscious," Danny said. "How was he supposed to give consent?" 

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can check with the patient coordinator, but it's going to be a few minutes."

A few minutes? He'd already waited long enough just to get there, the whole scene with Steve stumbling and passing out playing over and over in his head. He needed to see Steve. And if he hadn't given consent to be in the directory, then there was a good chance he wasn't awake.

"Look, can't you check the patient records that aren't in the directory? They wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance, and it took forever to get over here in a cab after he passed out and they carted him off, and I just...I really need to see him."

"I'm really sorry," she said, "but I’m not allowed to give out any patient information without their consent, even to friends. Only family."

They were closer than family, but somehow he didn't think saying, 'That's my liver back there,' would do him any good. Danny looked over his shoulder to see two people waiting, one of them holding her arm at a weird angle. 

"Can you get the patient coordinator?" Danny asked, already stepping to the side. 

She nodded. "As soon as I can."

He moved just far enough away to be respectful of the people stepping up to the desk, but not far enough away that the receptionist could forget about him. He watched as the couple who had been behind him were checked in, and two more patients as well, before he saw a guy in a dress shirt and khakis come out of the actual emergency treatment area, an iPad in his hands. 

The receptionist motioned for him to come over, and after a brief conversation, the guy headed towards Danny. 

"Mr. Williams, I'm Michael, the patient coordinator. Rami said you were looking for someone?"

Danny nodded. "Steve McGarrett. We were at the Angels game and he passed out."

Michael tapped on his iPad a few times. "I don't have him in the directory," he said, "but we've been very busy, and I haven't made it around to all the recent intakes for consent yet."

"Can't you just tell me if he's here, at least?" 

"I'm sorry, sir, hospital policy is not to give out information on anyone unless they—"

"Consent, yeah, I get it." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "Look, maybe you could go back to the more recent patients and if you were to find one named Steve McGarrett, maybe try to get him listed a little faster? Because the last thing I saw of him he was unconscious and being loaded into an ambulance, and seeing as he currently carries part of my liver, I think I should be at least able to know if it's here, even if you can't tell me if he is."

Michael had clearly practiced his sympathetic face. "I understand, sir," he said. "Let me see what I can find out." 

Danny watched as Michael went back through the security doors to the treatment area. He considered rushing the door and sneaking in before it closed, but it would probably just get him thrown out. Besides, that was the kind of thing Steve would do. 

Of course, Steve being Steve, he'd probably get away with it, too.

Danny still couldn't get the images of Steve, pale and unconscious, out of his head. He needed to know Steve was okay. No, he needed to see it with his own eyes. 

Then, maybe, those images would go away.

***

Steve blinked his eyes open, registering the institutional walls and ceiling, the unmistakable smells of hospital, and the needle stuck in his hand. He clearly wasn't in Hawaii—he knew the walls and ceilings in every ER there too well. 

A few seconds of concentration brought everything back. Anaheim and Danny, the Yankees game that had been fun, despite Steve feeling nauseous. And then they went to leave and...nothing. 

Steve looked around, seeing medical personnel but no sign of Danny anywhere. What had happened? Had they been attacked? Had they had an accident? 

"Hey," Steve said, his voice a raspy whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey."

That got the attention of a nurse nearby. "Mr. McGarrett," she said, "you're awake." She came over to his bed, immediately checking all his vital signs. "How do you feel?"

"Thirsty," Steve said. "And confused. What happened?"

"Apparently you fainted at a baseball game."

Steve relaxed a little. If he fainted, then it wasn't an accident. Danny was likely fine. Though that didn't answer the question of why he wasn't here. "Where's Danny?"

"Who?"

"Was with me at the game."

The nurse frowned. "They brought you in by ambulance alone, I believe."

Steve couldn't remember the last time either one of them had been in an ambulance that the other wasn't with them, at least not if they were in the same place. "My phone?" 

She nodded at a nearby table. "Your things are over there. But you can't use a cell phone back here."

"Landline?" He needed to call Danny. Either something was wrong, or Danny was hurt, too, because he would be back here otherwise. 

"Mr. McGarrett, you can't—"

"McGarrett?" 

A man interrupted them, looking at Steve, then at the chart. "Steve McGarrett, right?" At Steve's nod, the man said, "I'm Michael, the patient coordinator. There's a somewhat insistent man out there who's anxious to see you." 

"Short, blond and irate?" 

Michael shrugged. "More concerned than irate, I think, but that sounds like it. Danny Williams?" At Steve's nod, Michael said, "We haven't been able to even tell him you're back here because you weren't awake to give consent. If you agree, I'll go tell him to come back."

Consent? Danny was his emergency contact on pretty much every form available. There wasn't a hospital on Oahu that would even think of trying to keep him from Steve's side. But they weren't on Oahu, and apparently here he wasn't even allowed to know Steve was there.

"Please, tell him, before he decides to come looking." Steve cleared his throat again. "Can he come back?" 

After some kind of silent conversation between Michael and the nurse, the nurse nodded. "I'll bring him back here," Michael said, as he turned and left. 

***

After what felt like hours, but hadn't even been the length of the Big Bang Theory rerun showing in the waiting room, Danny saw Michael come back through the doors. Danny had just enough time to stand up before Michael reached him.

"I've located Mr. McGarrett," Michael said. "He's asked to see you."

Thank God. It took Danny a second to find his voice, but he'd already started towards the doors as he said, "Lead the way."

He followed Michael through the doors and down a maze of closed curtains. Michael stopped in front of one, peeking through before he pulled it back enough for Danny to come through with him. "I'll go see if I can find your doctor," Michael said, pulling the curtain closed as he walked out.

Danny resisted the urge to run over and touch Steve and prove to himself he was real. "I had no idea," Danny said, "that you would go to such lengths to get out of buying me dinner." 

Steve's laugh was soft, but real. "Yeah, well, you know me."

Danny moved over to the bed, giving in to the need to touch, his finger tracing the back of Steve's hand, ghosting over the IV needle taped there. "They tell you why you passed out?"

"Not yet." Steve shifted, reaching out with his free hand, brushing his fingers over Danny's. "I remember getting ready to leave the game—what happened?"

"We got up onto the concourse and you just passed out," Danny said, shivering a little as he remembered it. "And then they wouldn't let me in the ambulance, or tell me anything when I finally got here, because I wasn't officially family."

Steve's lips thinned. "Danny," he said after a moment, "I—"

The curtain opened enough for the doctor to come through. "Mr. McGarrett," she said, "I'm Dr. Reyes." She caught sight of Danny and turned to Steve. "Is it all right to talk with your friend in the room?"

"He can hear anything you have to say," Steve said. Which hadn't always been Steve's outlook on things, and Danny marveled at how much had changed since they met. 

"Very well. You passed out mostly because you were dehydrated," she said. "I spoke with your doctor in Hawaii, and he wants to adjust your medication a little to help, but you also need to drink a lot of water as well. Hydration is especially important with the medicines you're on."

"So that's it?" Danny asked. "He was just dehydrated?" 

"The dosage of the medicine probably made him a little light headed. And I'm guessing you'd been more nauseous the last few days from it as well?"

Steve nodded. "Haven't felt like eating much."

"That's a dangerous combination. Add in flying, which is also dehydrating, and you created a perfect storm."

"But there's nothing else wrong?" Danny asked. 'Else' being a relative term, given the radiation poisoning, half a foreign liver, and Steve's general insanity, but Danny would take it gladly. 

The doctor shook her head. "That's it. Once you've finished up that IV, we can get you out of here, as long as you promise to eat something." 

"If I can keep it down."

"I've written a prescription for some anti-nausea pills," the doctor said. "They won't help the dehydration any, so you need to keep drinking liquids, but it's a trade-off, since you need to eat."

She picked up Steve's chart and wrote something on it. "We'll give you some guidelines on what you should have to eat and drink and how often to help you until your body adjusts, but you should see a quick improvement with the adjusted dosage on your medications."

"Thank you," Steve said.

"Of course. I'll get the nurse to print out all the papers and she'll be in to unhook you shortly."

She left, closing the curtain behind her. Danny leaned against Steve's bed, almost weak from relief. "You realize," Danny said, smiling down at Steve, "that I get to bug you relentlessly about eating and drinking now, right?"

"Bug away."

Danny reached down again, taking Steve's free hand in his. "No complaining about my nagging, then?"

"I didn't say that." 

Danny laughed, interlacing his fingers with Steve's. "Clearly you're feeling better already."

***

"I still don't understand," Danny said, as he opened the hotel room door, "why we had to go get the car on the way back from the hospital."

"There was no point in leaving it there any longer and risking it getting towed," Steve said, dropping the keys on the dresser before more or less collapsing on his back on the bed. He had handed over the keys to Danny and not even considered driving, but he'd balked at actually leaving the car at the parking lot. 

He closed his eyes, and a moment later the bed dipped beside him. Steve opened his eyes to find Danny looking down at him, concern etched on his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Steve said honestly. 

"Thirsty?" Danny asked.

Steve shook his head. "But apparently I should drink anyway." 

"You should." Danny got off the bed, coming back quickly with some of the Gatorade he'd stopped for on the way back. "Here." 

Steve shifted until he was mostly sitting up against the pillows and headboard. He took the Gatorade, finishing half the bottle in one go. 

"I thought you weren't thirsty," Danny said. 

That teasing tone, the light in his eyes...Steve wanted to do all the things he'd been imagining in this bed, but he was just too tired. "I'm sorry," Steve said after a moment.

"For what?" Danny settled onto the bed next to him. "Scaring the shit out of me? Staying passed out so it took me forever to find out you were okay?"

"Yes?"

Seriously, that look on Danny's face was not safe for Steve's heart. "Well, you waited until the Yankees won the game," Danny said, "so I'll forgive you." He leaned in for a kiss. "But you still owe me dinner."

"Duly noted," Steve said. "And I promise to make good on that soon. However...."

He pushed up off the bed, but Danny stopped him with a hand on Steve's arm. "What do you need? I can get it?" 

Steve shook his head. "Bathroom," he said. "Be right back."

He went into the bathroom and closed the door, leaning back against it for a second as he got over the lightheadedness. He took care of business before he pulled his shaving kit out of the drawer he'd stuck it in and opened it up. 

The small bag he pulled out felt heavier than the contents warranted. He was sure about this, but that didn't make it any easier. He'd only considered it once before, and that hadn't exactly gone well. Or been a good idea, as it turned out.

But this was. He was sure of that, even if he wasn't sure he could actually manage it. 

Steve pocketed the contents of the bag and went back into the bedroom. Danny was leaning back against the pillows, watching Steve carefully, looking like nothing Steve had ever thought he'd want, and everything he needed all at once. 

Steve sat back down on the bed and took Danny's hand. "I'd planned to talk to you about this at dinner," he said, "but the best laid plans...."

"What is it?" Danny prodded.

He looked like he was steeling himself for more bad news. "With everything that's happened, everything going on," Steve said, "and then tonight just underscoring things, I mean, it makes sense."

Danny leaned in a little, eyes narrowing. "You realize _you're_ not making sense, right? Because if you don't realize it then maybe we need to take you back to the ER."

"No, I mean...I don't...." Steve took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket. "Danny, when I woke up and realized you didn't know where I was, that you couldn't find anything out all because of the lack of a stupid piece of paper...I don't want that to happen again. And with things as uncertain as they are...."

Steve pulled the ring out, holding it up between his forefinger and thumb. "It makes sense for us to get married," he said, the words tumbling out quickly. "Right?"

Danny took the ring, slowly turning it over in his fingers, the flecks of blue in the black band shining in the low light. "I, uh...." He looked up at Steve, dazed. "Are you sure?"

"I am," Steve said. "But if you're not...."

He reached for the ring, but Danny snatched it back, the first hint of a smile replacing that dazed look. "You can't have it back," Danny said. "I'm only giving it to you if it's to put it on my hand."

Steve swallowed as he nodded and took it back, placing it carefully on Danny's finger. Steve leaned in for a kiss before he had to ask, "Why'd you ask if I was sure?"

"Because I know you and commitment. I just had to see your answer first." 

Steve let out a long breath. "I'm not sure of a lot of things anymore," he said, draping himself over Danny, "but this I'm sure of." 

"Good." Danny leaned up, the invitation clear, and Steve gave him a kiss, then another. "I mean, we've only been together for three months."

"Danny, we may have been sleeping together for three months, but we've been married for years," Steve said. "This just makes it official."

\---  
END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - I did a fair amount of research on patient confidentiality rules vs. law vs. ignorance that leads to frustration and problems in hospitals in order to make this a believable set of events, even if it may/may not follow the law. Because it turns out hospitals do not follow the law—some of them have stricter rules because they don't want to get sued. And sometimes even the employees do not know the rules and may withhold info for fear of getting into trouble. So while this hospital's rules may not be the law, they are, in fact, the rules at some actual hospitals, and this situation could actually happen. And just like the law is that even spouses don't have actual rights to the info without permission, that isn't always followed either. 
> 
> PPS – I loathe the Yankees. The fact that I let them win shows how much I love Danny.


End file.
